


Counting Parts

by misssnowfox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humor, Idiots, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Pining, Polyamory, Romance, outside pov, roommate shenanigans, the one in which suga is poly, there is much confusion all round
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26526385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misssnowfox/pseuds/misssnowfox
Summary: "Why don't we stick with Suga? That's what my friends call me," he says with a sweet expression. "Even my boyfriends call me that."___Sometimes, spelling things out clearly is the best way forward. Suga learns this the hard way when his three roommates of a few weeks believe him to be cheating on both his boyfriends simultaneously.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi, Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi/Sugawara Koushi, Bokuto Koutarou & Nishinoya Yuu & Tanaka Ryuunosuke & Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 209
Collections: Haikyuu Rarepair Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joshllyman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/gifts).



> Alright friends!
> 
> This is my entry for the Rare Pair Exchange and as is usually the case with poor old Roxanne, I started off completely uninspired, came up with an idea I hoped my gift would like and ended up with a 23k fic that I actually enjoyed writing A LOT! See how things can surprise you? FYI, the minimum was something like 1k but pffffff WHAT ELSE DO WE EXPECT IN THIS HOUSE BY NOW 
> 
> My giftee is the lovely [Kou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman) and I hope it fills all your poly asadaisuga love with a bit of minor/background bokuaka sprinkled in the midst of a lot of platonic soulmate behaviour.
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely [Wifey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayoldcupcake) for giving this a SPAG and generally being awesome! 
> 
> Enjoy!!!

The sound of the groceries landing on the kitchen table jolts Tanaka awake with such force that he nearly knocks a glass of water over. 

“Wakey wakey!” Noya chirps, completely unphased that he nearly just gave him a heart attack. On the contrary, he seems to be delighting in his misery if the shit eating smirk on his face is anything to go by. “Late night?!” he shouts in playful spite, just to make sure it pierces through the remnants of Tanaka’s involuntary nap.

He puts his hands over his ears and grimaces. “Yeah, something like that,” he groans, “I was trying to study, but Bokuto needed someone to run lines with him and _you_ conveniently disappeared.” He shoots Noya a direct glare for good measure. 

“Pffft, of course I disappeared! Unlike you, _I_ remember what he was like last year when he had a graded monologue coming up. And unlike you, I’m not that soft to stick around and let those puppy dog eyes get the better of me.”

Tanaka has sometimes envied Noya for his ability to stand his ground with anyone and everyone, especially when it’s three in the morning and he’s debating why he thought living with Bokuto for a second year running was a good idea. He still refuses to admit to Noya that once Bokuto graduates next year, he’ll probably cry into his pillow for a week. He has a feeling Noya feels the same way. 

“Where did you even go?” he yawns. 

Noya smirks as he unpacks the shopping bag. “You’re too young to know.” 

Tanaka laughs, because while it’s not out of the question that Noya spent the night doing exactly what he’s attempting to rub in Tanaka’s face, it’s far more likely that he heard Bokuto coming home and shot straight to the nearest 24-hour karaoke bar in desperation. 

“You need a hand?” Tanaka asks, shaking his hands to get rid of the post-nap numbness. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine here, but you can go up to the spare room and start clearing it out if you want?”

“Huh?”

Noya cranes his head around at Tanaka’s confusion, looking utterly ridiculous on the tips of his toes, arms stretched to put the rice away into a cupboard that could really do with being a few centimetres lower. That’s the rule in their house. Noya isn’t too short for anything; everything is clearly just too tall. 

“We’ve got that new guy moving in today, remember? The freshman.”

“Oh, crap.”

Despite having the space, it had taken the best part of two weeks for the boys to convince him that they should even take on a fourth roommate. Tanaka’s track record of meeting and _liking_ new people is not a particularly consistent one. Even his introduction to Noya had begun with a fifteen minute Mexican standoff, before they agreed to be best friends and to never speak of their awkwardness again. The thought of adding some stranger to their functioning and happy dynamic of over a year seemed an unnecessary risk. In the end, it had been Bokuto that convinced him, with his wide eyes and promises of how much money they’d save by renting out the empty room. Money which could be used on buying some fancy new volleyball shoes for practice. 

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Noya smirks. 

Tanaka frowns. “Of course not. I’m just getting ready to say _I told you so_ when he turns out to be a creep or a serial killer, or worse, a _beach_ fan.”

Noya visibly shivers, but still huffs out an amused 'you really need to calm it down, buddy,' and comes back down to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans. “He seemed fine over email. Even offered to clean out his room himself.”

Tanaka scrunches his nose up. “Oh, so he’s the sucking up type, huh?”

He’s rewarded with a smack upside the head. "Cut that out, you goon! Anyway, if he is a creep, we’ll just get Kou to throw him into the dumpster. It’s a risk free situation.”

Tanaka grumbles and mutters _risk free, my ass_ as he drags his feet all the way to the door. The sooner he gets this over with, the sooner he can go back to napping. 

“What’s this fool’s name again?” he asks over his shoulder and watches Noya visibly rack his brains. 

“Suga… Suga-something.”

“Well, I Suga-hate him.”

* * *

It turns out, Suga-something is called Sugawara, something he learns after one of Bokuto’s usual humiliating blunders. 

“Hey, dude with the grey hair!”

Suga-something smiles with a genuine, amused crinkle to his eyes. “I’m Koushi Sugawara.”

“Fine then, Sugablehblehbleh.”

Noya smacks him upside the head with vigour, despite Sugawara’s giggling fit at Bokuto’s failure to behave human.

“Now we have two Kous in the house,” Noya points out. “That’s gonna get confusing when there’s alcohol involved.”

“Why don’t we stick with Suga? That’s what my friends call me,” he says with a sweet expression. Who authorised his friendship anyway? “Even my boyfriends call me that.”

Tanaka grits his teeth at the thought of this dude having a string of past boyfriends when he’s never even had _one_ relationship and can’t stop thinking about the same girl in his class since the beginning of last year.

“Suga it is!” Bokuto announces, thumping their new addition on the back with fervour. 

* * *

Suga seems to sense Tanaka’s apprehension towards the new company, because he doesn’t force conversation with him. It both infuriates him and makes him eternally grateful in equal measure. 

It takes all of two hours for him to realise his own stupidity. He knocks over a glass in the kitchen - Noya’s favourite one - on Suga’s first night in the house during his _Welcome to the Madhouse_ dinner and it makes a tremendous racket as it smashes. Noya is alerted almost instantly and calls out to see what happened. 

Tanaka can hear him getting up and his panicked eyes find Suga who is with him in the kitchen. Noya is his best friend but he’d do anything to not be on the receiving end of one of his tantrums. 

He’s not begging for help per se, but even a drowning man will reach out a hand to whoever is closest. That just so happens to be his new mortal enemy. 

“Aww, _man_!” Noya whines when he sees the mess. “I got that in Tokyo!” Tanaka swallows and waits for what he knows is coming. “Ryuu, I’m gonna—”

“—Sorry, Nishinoya, that was me,” Suga interrupts, almost making Tanaka’s tongue lodge deep into the back of his throat. Suga does that light hearted giggle for the second time that day and brings a hand up to scratch the back of his head. “I guess that second beer was a mistake, huh?”

Noya blinks twice, before his temper melts like a snowman. He cracks a bright, obnoxious cackle and smacks Suga on the arm. “Ah well, shit happens, man. You can owe me a drink when we go out together, yeah?”

“You got it,” Suga agrees and looks at Tanaka with soft eyes and a reassuring smile. 

* * *

Bokuto usually calls Tanaka the stupidest of the bunch and Tanaka usually fights him on it, but it seems this time he may have a point, because it turns out that Suga is kind of impossible to hate. Two whole hours of trying and here he is, tail between his legs and egg on his face.

Tanaka lets Suga sit next to him at the table as a gesture of reconciliation for his standoffish behaviour and feels his irritation melt as he listens to Suga’s exciting stories, watches his gentle hand gestures and facial expressions. He learns pretty quickly that there’s certainly more to him than meets the eye. 

Suga seems like the definition of prim and proper; someone who would never fit into their home. It turns out he’s as fucked up as the rest of them if the string of outrageous jokes he tells with the most innocent of innocent expressions on his face is any indication. They make Tanaka belly laugh the way he used to in high school when Noya would get himself into the worst scrapes imaginable. He has a feeling Suga will fit in just fine, even if it does still get under his skin that he’s one year older than Tanaka, despite being a freshman. 

“How did that work out, dude?” Bokuto asks around a mouthful of noodles. 

“Oh, I decided to wait a while before starting college. Me and my boyfriend were trying to save up to move in together at the time, but it’s been two years since then and if I want to be a teacher, I need a degree, so there wasn’t really another option except going back to school. He has a full time job now, though, so he’s still able to carry on saving and by the time we’ve all graduated, hopefully we’ll be on the right track.”

“What does he do?” Noya asks.

“He’s a high school volleyball coach.” 

The table nearly shakes with the force of three of them sitting up like meerkats, eyes wide, food falling from their chopsticks. 

“ _Volleyball_?!” they parrot, earning themselves wide eyes from Suga that would put Bokuto to shame. 

It’s a slur and tangle of words after that: _what position does he play, is he any good, what are his receives like, what’s his vertical_ and Suga starts belly laughing at all of them.

“He played as a wing spiker in high school, but he tended to drop back as one of the primary receivers, so yeah, his receives are pretty great.” 

Tanaka notices the same proud twinkle in his eye that Bokuto gets whenever he prattles on about Akaashi. He and Noya had to start timing him for what they dubbed _Keiji Time_ in fear of literally going insane from hearing so much lovey dovey talk about one person. 

“Wow, you sound like you really know your stuff!” Noya chirps, finally having swallowed his mouthful of food.

“Well, I was the starting setter when I got to my third year, so I guess I know a thing or two,” Suga says. “But there were far more talented players on the court with me, him being one of them.”

“Oh, _we’ll_ be the judge of that,” Bokuto says, smirking. 

“What do you mean?”

“It means you have to play with us, man. _Both_ of you,” Noya joins in.

“You guys play volleyball?” 

“Hell yeah, we do!” Noya roars. “I’m a libero and these two knuckleheads are wing spikers, just like your boy.”

“Yeah, and now that we know you're a setter and aren’t out to take our spots,” Tanaka grins, finally feeling that familiar tug that he’d found with both of his other roommates, “you can join our neighbourhood team. Our old setter graduated over the spring, so we’re a man down. We play every Wednesday night, most of us don’t have class then. What do you say?”

Suga smiles, the widest, and most genuine smile Tanaka has seen on him all evening. “Sounds great! Though, you might have to just settle for poor old me - my workaholic of a boyfriend is gonna be running practice every evening and visiting me at the weekends, so no can do on the neighbourhood team. But if you’re happy to have a couple of street games, he’d be more than down for that on a weekend. But count me in!”

“I’ll cheers to that!” Noya says and raises his glass to toast. Tanaka doesn’t even mind the smug look he shoots him and the murmurs, “Who gets to say _I told you so_ now, huh baldie?”

He just gives him a swift kick under the table for the nickname and grunts, “you wanna talk hair, sparrow?” before relaxing into the feeling of the buzz that soothes the rest of his jitters. 

* * *

In a startling amount of time, Suga manages to fill a lot more than just the empty room in the house. Within days, he’s bonding with Tanaka over his nutrition course; a welcome treat to finally share the responsibility of cooking with someone who seems to give a shit about it. He has a calmer, nicer way of correcting some of Noya’s ruder outbursts, without incurring further rage upon them all. He even becomes one of Bokuto’s favourite people to come to for scene practice, something that makes both Noya and Tanaka love him even more. 

He sees them practising together on the couch about half a week into Suga living with them and marvels at how animated Suga is getting with his line readings, even though this isn’t even his major. He observes how, when Bokuto throws one of his emotional tantrums after he flubs a line, stating that his _entire acting career is a waste and he’ll never make it and what’s even the point of trying_ , Suga just calmly suggests they take a short snack break to _rejuvenate those brain cells_.

“Pffft, _brain cells_ ,” Tanaka mutters as he fills his bottle with water. As though Bokuto has two to rub together to make a third. Well, that’s what he has to say out loud, anyway, just to keep up appearances. Bokuto was, annoyingly, the smartest among them before Suga showed up.

What would normally be a thirty minute breakdown is a mere thirty second one and Tanaka raises his eyebrows as he watches Bokuto prance to the kitchen to grab some food, as though he wasn’t seconds away from a life ending panic. 

Suga looks on at him, completely unphased by his erratic behaviour, just grinning like the sun. Tanaka doesn’t even know when it happened that within _days_ , he can’t even picture the household without him in it. 

“You handled that like champ,” he says, plopping onto the couch for a moment. 

Suga smirks. “Let’s just say I’ve met the likes of him before when I was in high school. It’s just all that passion, it has to go somewhere.”

If Suga thinks _Bokuto_ is easy to handle, he can’t even imagine what sorts of devils he played with back in the day. “I’ve only ever seen Akaashi handle one of his moods that well.”

“Akaashi?”

“His boyfriend.”

“Ahhhh. Well I’m sure Akaashi has nothing to worry about, as you know, I’m spoken for,” he says with air quotes a twinkle in his eye, before they go wide as saucers. “Oh! That reminds me!” He reaches behind himself and grabs a homemade package from the shelf. “Are you heading out? Or just been out?” he asks, taking in Tanaka’s outfit.

Tanaka nods. “Going for a run, how come?”

Suga screws his face up. “Any chance I could be a horrible pain and ask you to mail this for me? I was gonna do it myself, but uhh…” he peers at Bokuto who is less in the process of making a snack and more in the process of making a _mess_ of the kitchen. “This might take a while, we have ten more pages to get through. The post office might be closed by then and I promised Asahi I’d send it by today.”

“Asahi?”

Suga smiles. “My boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Tanaka shakes the box. “What’s in it?” 

Suga rolls his eyes. “He got pretty attached to this special local shampoo that he would always buy from the old lady who ran a drug store in our town. Said he couldn’t stand the thought of her going out of business while he was away. Big old softie, you wouldn't believe how shy and silly he gets,” he adds, but Tanaka thinks it was mostly to himself if the absentminded smile is anything to go by. Then, he notices a faint blush paint Suga’s cheeks. It’s possibly the first time he’s seen him embarrassed. “Plus it really um… it agrees with his hair, so…”

“His hair?”

“Well… it’s long, you see… the shampoo, it just makes it… it’s really…”

Tanaka smirks like he’s just been handed a golden goose. “Oh, it’s like that is it?”

“Oh shut your face!” Suga laughs, hitting him with a cushion. “You’re one to talk, you think I didn’t see the way you stared at that girl when I bumped into you two talking the other day on campus.” Tanaka freezes. “What’s her name again? Kiyoko? Or was it _Clear Spring Water_? That’s what you called her when we were all drinking the other night.”

“I wasn’t—”

“—maybe I should help set you guys up,” Suga says, grinning now that the upper hand has been regained. 

“I’m going now!” Tanaka shrieks. “Don’t wanna miss the last collection!”

Suga cackles after him with a, “hey don’t worry, Tanaka, there are loads of girls who love bald guys!”

“I’M NOT BALD!”

It’s not till he gets to the mailbox, sweaty and out of breath, that he notices the postage label on the front of the package; Suga is sending something all the way to Tokyo. He recalls their conversation on his first night about the boyfriend - Asahi? - only coming to visit on weekends and he can see why. He can’t even imagine a distance that long, especially when he knows Suga can’t afford regular trips on the express. 

With a pang that certainly has nothing to do with sympathy, he runs into a konbini on his way back home and picks up Suga’s favourite snack, making sure to curse it several times for his earlier teasing. 

* * *

Suga announces on Friday night that his boyfriend will be making his first visit the following day and will spend the night. 

“If, uh… if that’s alright with you guys, that is?”

“Duh!” Bokuto says. “We wanna meet this legendary wing spiker.”

“Who’s apparently so good at receives,” Noya leers. 

“ _And_ attacks,” Tanaka adds.

“Jeeze, guys, don’t _interrogate_ him when he gets here,” Suga laughs. 

“You should have invited him round tonight, that way we’d have had all weekend with him,” Noya suggests. 

“Oh _we_ would, would we?” Suga asks, asmused. “He’s spent all day working, you think I’d feed him to the lions when he’s already exhausted from a group of teenagers? I _do_ love him you know.”

“If you really loved him, you’d let him play volleyball with us.” 

“ _Tomorrow_ ,” Suga insists with a playful sigh, “good grief.”

* * *

Getting to meet Asahi is like Christmas come early. The three of them wait in the living room while Suga collects him from the train station and they all perk up to the sound of the door.

“Could you _try_ to act cool?” Noya hisses.

“ _You’re_ not doing any better either!”

“Yeah, well, he’s a _real_ coach.”

“He’s our age, you moron.”

“Here they come!”

They watch Suga lead Asahi, holding his hand and laughing when he gets a good look at them. 

“I did say they were a little… overeager…”

Asahi laughs. “That’s fine by me. Hi everybody, nice to meet you all! Suga’s been telling me so much about you, it sounds like you’ve all gotten along brilliantly.”

Tanaka frowns the second he hears Aashi speak. Suga was either pulling his leg when he told him he was shy, or Tanaka may have to reevaluate whether or not Suga really is the smartest one of them all. 

And that’s before he even gets a proper look at Asahi. He’s built fairly solid, like he’d expect a volleyball coach who once played wing spiker to be, but his hair is dark and short, close to his head in a smart fashion with just a little bit of thickness and fullness to it.

He blurts out before it has a chance to stop it, “when did you cut your hair, bro?”

Both of them look at Tanaka like he’s grown a third head. But it’s only been a few days since Suga sent those shampoos and it seems such a waste if Ashi just chopped off all his hair. 

“Um… I don’t know, maybe two months ago?” Asahi laughs awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you too, I guess you’re Tanaka?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, head empty of anything but confusion. This is not what he’d expected Suga’s gentle giant to look like at all. 

“And _I’m_ Bokuto, I’m a wing spiker, I used to be one of the best in the prefecture when I was at my first high school,” he says, eyes bright and cocky, hair almost vibrating in that ridiculous gelled style. Stupid Bokuto with his stupid thick hair. 

“I’m Nishinoya, libero,” he hears next.

“This isn’t a job interview, guys, you don’t have to introduce yourselves with your positions,” Suga counters, but Asahi just laughs. 

“I like you guys,” he says and Tanaka feels a pleasant warmth swim through him at his friendly voice. Even though something about his tone gives him reason to think he might regret it if he ever crosses him. Definitely a _coach_ voice. Or maybe even a dad. “My name is Daichi,” he says. 

_That_ gets Tanaka’s attention, even though the others don’t seem to pay much attention. Of course they don’t. He was the only one who saw the name on the package to Tokyo. He was the only one who heard Suga refer to his boyfriend as Asahi, though granted, he didn’t think to spy on his last name. Or maybe that _was_ his last name? 

“So who wants to play a little volleyball?” Daichi (Asahi? Who even knows at this point) asks, slapping his hands together in glee. 

The room erupts the way only a room of athletes could and Tanaka feels the tell tale fire under his skin at the prospect of playing with someone new and _good_.

“Oh, I’ll try to go easy on you, shall I?” he adds, and Tanaka forgets all about whether his name is Daichi, Asahi or Santa Claus. He’s going to beat his ass into the ground. 

* * *

Daichi is good. _Really_ good. Tanaka admits as much to Noya when they take a quick time out and drink some water. 

“He’s really not messing around with those receives,” he admits, eyes sparkling in a way Tanaka has only ever seen on him when they’ve faced a really tricky opponent. 

Bokuto seems equally as charmed with Daichi’s attacks as Noya is with his receives and by the time the third set rolls around, he’s given all of them a run for their money. 

“You guys…” Daichi pants. His team finally lost after the third set went to a duce. “... Really… gave me the run around…”

Tanaka allows himself the luxury of feeling smug. It’s not every day he beats an actual volleyball coach in a game. 

He watches Suga glide over to Daichi’s side of the court and give him a quick peck on the cheek, before heading over to where his outdoor shoes are tossed in the corner of the gym. 

Tanaka skulks after Daichi, finally glad to corner him now that he’ll be alone for a moment. Maybe if he gets in his good books, gets to know him better, Daichi will teach him one of those special attacks before Bokuto gets a hold of him and steals all the good tips. He mops the back of his neck with a towel as he attempts his best impression at a face completely free of suspicious intent. He’s been told he’s…. pretty intimidating even when he’s not trying.

“So, uh… how long have you and Suga been going out?” he asks, toying with his water bottle as casually as he can. 

“Oh man, um…” Daichi looks up to the ceiling and laughs after a pause. “ _Well_ , it depends who you ask. There are various stages of getting together, am I right? Or at least, in our situation there certainly were...” he smiles as though he’s remembering something warm and pleasant. “But we’ve been in each other’s pockets since high school, so it’s been quite a few years now. The exact timeline escapes me, I’ll be honest, there’s too many different anniversaries to keep track of.”

Tanaka frowns. It seems pretty simple to him. As simple as remembering a first date. Or a first kiss. Or just… _any_ first that could be used as an anniversary date. How complicated can it be to remember when you got in a relationship with another person. But then again, he’s also never been in one himself. Maybe there are special calendars to keep track of such things.

“Must be pretty serious then, huh?” he mumbles, not daring to embarrass himself with his lack of any real dating experience. Not to someone this cool. “Guess it makes sense that you came all the way up here to see Suga. You really gonna be visiting us every weekend?”

“I mean, it’s about an hour on the local train, sure, but it’s not a killer or anything. And Suga won’t be working much while he’s in college, besides some part time stuff maybe, so it makes more sense financially for me to make the trip. It’s not like I don’t get anything out of it, there’s not much to do in Karasuno, so doing something fun with my weekends makes a welcome change.” 

“Karasuno…” Tanaka slurs, the vowel trailing off awkwardly at the end. 

Daichi looks at what must be a truly perplexed expression and chuckles. “You’ve probably never heard of it, right? It’s a little mountain town, but yeah, yeah, I know, not as fancy as Sendai.”

“But what about Tokyo?” he blurts out with no thought to what a maniac he must sound like. 

Daichi’s eyebrows raise, before he says, voice pitched slightly higher, “Well, _some_ people may like it there, but I'm more fond of— _ooooooh_ wait!” and then he laughs again, so bright it nearly fills the entire gym, “No, no, no, I know it’s confusing to remember, but no, _I_ live in Karasuno, Tokyo is where—”

“—Tanaka!” Noya screeches across the gym and Tanaka jumps up. He turns his head with his shoulders tensed up to see them all at the exit, changed and ready to go, while he and Daichi are still gossiping like two grandmas over a fence. “You wanna quit flirting, we all got a bus to catch!” 

He’s grateful to see Suga laughing at the quip rather than running over, outdoor shoes or no, and thumping him one. 

“My bad!” Daichi calls. “Give us two minutes!”

They change in near silence, their earlier conversation completely forgotten. As they pad across the gym to the exit, Daichi taps Tanaka’s side and murmurs, “you scared of him or something?” with a playful smirk. 

Tanaka scrunches his face up in defiance. “Nah, nothing like that he’s just… he’s a stand up guy, he just gets carried away, that’s all. I’m always worried people won’t get him. He’s a lot sometimes. Not to mention he creeps up on you when you least expect it."

Daichi smiles, but it almost looks like he’s smiling past Tanaka to his own thoughts. “Terrifying guy for such a little body, huh? Reminds me of my boyfriend, only the _complete_ opposite. Complete marshmallow on the inside, but built like a tree.”

Tanaka doesn’t want to be the asshole that picks a fight with a guy strong enough to behead him with his own hands, so he keeps it to himself that Suga really doesn’t act _anything_ like a marshmallow (in some ways, he’s proven himself to be the most devious of all of them in just one week), nor is he built anything like a tree. He’s not got a body to scoff at, sure, but Tanaka has a feeling Daichi might be doing a bit of loving embellishment in his… description of his boyfriend. Whatever works for him. Suga isn’t Tanaka’s boyfriend and he barely knows him. If Daichi sees Suga as some muscled hunk, then it’s hardly his place to contradict him.

“Tell you what, though,” Daichi continues when he doesn’t get an answer. “I’ll bet anything that Suga has that little guy wrapped around his little finger.”

They exit the building just in time to witness Noya chasing down a flock of pigeons at full volume, only to have his snooze button pressed instantly when Suga gives him a lazy, 'shhhh, it’s late, jeeze.'

Daichi and Tanaka share one final smirk as they walk over to join the others. 


	2. Chapter 2

The first weekend that Daichi stays over is the busiest the house has been in a long time, which is exactly the way Noya likes it. 

Quiet is off putting, a little unnerving, boring. The only time he finds himself content with his own thoughts is when he’s deep in strategy, deep in the middle of a serve receive as he calculates the precise spin and curve of the ball hurtling towards him at 60kmph. 

He’d chosen his roommates accordingly. Two guys with their screws equally as loose as his and mouths twice as big. In his private moments and thoughts, he sometimes calls them his family. Even while blistering drunk, he’s never admitted that to anyone. Normal people don’t call their roommates family. Not two random strangers who just happen to love the same sport and have a similar lack of respect for personal boundaries. 

But for better or worse, that’s the way it’s turned out. He’d thought that family had been complete a long time ago. He’d never even considered the fact that they were missing a limb. Someone who forged something gentle in the spaces between their chaos, but sharp enough to keep them in line. Someone to glue them together. Someone just as crazy under the right circumstances, but with his shit firmly together. 

Suga, he realised fairly quickly, is their perfect balance.

Having Daichi as an addition is a whole other kind of experience. He whipped the house up into a frenzy with his skill, his expertise and his charisma, but still matches Suga in his soothing nature. He’s the kind of person who is impossible not to get along with, but unlike Suga, being around him makes Noya’s spine itch with the need to be on his best behaviour. There’s a tone to his voice and a strength to his jaw that means business. He has a feeling no one skips practice with Coach Daichi and gets away with it. 

And yet, as intimidating as he may sound, he’s not put even a toe out of line; the definition of a perfect guest, even offering to pay for the groceries for dinner. Suga is the most relaxed Noya has seen him thus far, arm around Daichi’s shoulder as they play a board game together, a comfortable slouch to his shoulders when it’s not his turn to roll the dice. 

He shoots Daichi numerous sweet looks that Noya wonders if they wouldn’t prefer sharing in private rather than entertaining the likes of them. But Suga also isn’t the kind of guy to stick around if he _really_ doesn’t want to be somewhere. He’s endlessly kind, but he also has his priorities straight. 

Daichi is a master at multitasking. As versatile as he is on the court, he’s clearly just as capable in social situations, paying attention to each and every one of them even though he doesn’t owe them a damn thing, all the while keeping one hand on Suga’s knee, tracing his arm, giving him loving looks in return during the moments when the attention isn’t directly on the two of them - looks that make Noya want to make a stupid ass decision like call the girl who broke up with him in high school whose name he doesn’t even remember. He doesn’t like to let negative feelings fester, but it’s hard not to feel something as natural as jealousy creep up the spine when looking at two people so clearly in love.

Their board game carries on to midnight and Daichi finally cracks a contagious yawn, Suga catching it and stretching his own jaw in return. 

“Uh-oooooh,” Bokuto jeers, smiling, “looks like Sleepywara won’t be getting any tonight. Shall I buy you two a teddy bear for when he next visits? Something to snuggle with when you’re too busy _not_ doing it?”

“That’s rich coming from you, Kou,” Noya chimes in with a glint in his eye, “how’s your stuffed owl doing?” 

He almost feels bad for the jibe considering _he’s_ the one who bought it for him following the semester abroad that Akaashi had done in his first year last year. Noya had found Bokuto crying in his room on week three, pretending he had a dust allergy. But he needs some way to run from the embarrassment that he himself has been the happy recipient of Owlkaashi’s cuddles ( _“you_ cannot _call him that, Kou, it’s fucking creepy!”)_ on the rare occasions he’s been too hyper to sleep or not willing to admit he’s having a lonely night, and crawled into Bokuto’s room for someone to just _be_ there. ( _“I’m just here for the owl, bird brain.”)_

“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about, Bokuto,” Suga soothes, absentmindedly painting patterns on Daichi’s shoulders, turning his head towards him. “We know someone who still needs to sleep with a plushie now and then, right sweetie?”

Daichi closes his eyes and laughs, shaking his head. “That we do, but shhh, you know he has a sixth sense for embarrassment, he’ll sense it from miles away.”

They both giggle and it’s the brightest, most carefree laugh Noya has heard from Suga since he’s met him. He didn’t even think a sound that sweet could come out of someone who looks like Daichi either. 

“But you’re right guys, I am pretty whacked, so if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go to bed?”

He kisses the side of Suga’s forehead and gets up off the couch, groaning in protest.

“I’ll finish up my turn and I’ll come join you after I’ve washed up, okay?”

The sweet domesticity of it. It shouldn’t be normal being as young as they are. 

To his credit, Suga does stay for a few more rounds, even though Noya is sure he’d rather be snuggled up next to Daichi hours ago. 

It turns out for all of Bokuto’s teasing, they still have a little bit of wind left in them. Whether it’s the slight buzz from the sake or the rush of their earlier volleyball game, Noya doesn’t know. But it’s not long after they all settle down for the night and his head finally hits the pillow that he hears the familiar sounds of roommates doing things that should never be brought up over breakfast. 

But theirs isn’t a normal house and they _do_ still bring it up on a regular basis, but only because up until now, Bokuto has been the only one with a regular, stable sexual partner to ruin their collective sleep over the last year. He’s delightfully easy to rile up and Akaashi is more than a good enough sport on the mornings that they see him for breakfast while Bokuto is still asleep. 

Noya is at least well versed in this. He reaches for his earphones, but not before he hears Daichi’s low rumbling vibrate through the walls. They’re not even being loud, his voice just carries _that_ well. He hears Suga’s content and devious tone, as well as the tell tale noises of a bed protesting ever so slightly. They’re actually trying to be considerate, that much is obvious. He can’t bedruge them a healthy sex life. He’s heard much worse. 

He does, however, roll his eyes at what he just about manages to hear before he puts his earphones in. The sounds of something coming from a phone or tablet. A video maybe? He really hadn’t pegged either Suga or Daichi to be the kind that watched porn during sex, but then again, he also hadn’t pegged Tanaka to be the kind to agonise over a gourmet three course meal. People can really surprise you.

The next morning, Suga is understandably chirpy as he floats around the kitchen to help Tanaka with breakfast. Usually, Noya might crack some sort of inappropriate joke, but he doesn’t see Daichi anywhere and it doesn’t seem worth the risk in case he’s about to pop out of the bathroom or Suga’s room. 

“Morning!” Suga chirps.

“Morning!” Noya says. “Where’s the boss man?”

Suga smiles and shakes his head. “He went for a run.”

“On a Sunday?”

Suga scrunches up his nose. “Yeah, tell me about it, I draw the line at weekends. But I guess he needs to keep up his condition more than I do.”

“Oh I _bet_ he does!” Bokuto’s voice pierces through the kitchen as he enters, stretching his arms over his head and growling. “Though he probably worked on his _condition_ just fine last night, eh, Suga? Someone got busy!”

Suga says nothing, but he seems the opposite of embarrassed, which doesn't really surprise Noya. Probably a wise decision not to engage with Bokuto’s antics. He just hands him a cup of freshly made coffee, which shuts him up immediately. Bokuto is a one-thought-at-a-time kind of guy, after all.

“You could stand to be more like Suga, you know that, Koutarou?” Noya says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, content to say what he thinks now that Daichi’s presence isn’t looming over him. “I barely even heard them, unlike _someone_ I could mention off the top of my head.”

They spend the next five minutes cleaning up after Bokuto nearly chokes on and spits out a mouth full of coffee. 

* * *

It’s Noya’s turn to do the laundry that day, a chore he detests, but it makes him feel better to know that they all have to suffer through it in shifts. The house usually gets quiet on a Sunday during mid morning and there’s little to distract him from the hell that is the laundry basket. 

Bokuto usually runs to Akaashi during this time or meets up with a few of his classmates to go over any potential scenes they’ll be working on in class the following week. Judging by the fact that Akaashi is visiting his family this weekend, Noya assumes it’s the latter. Tanaka is plugged into a console game in the living room which Noya would love to join in on, but if he doesn’t finish his chores, he’ll have to complete the forfeit. Daichi and Suga eat lunch at the dining room table in companionable silence, before heading off to Suga’s room. Judging by the door they’ve left open, Noya doesn’t think they’re gearing up for a sequel to last night.

He doesn’t see them again until the laundry cycle finishes and he’s padding around distributing everyone’s clean clothes. He walks past Suga’s open bedroom door to see him and Daichi snuggled together upright on the bed, an iPad sitting between them. He doesn’t stop to look, but their delighted expressions are visible even on a short glance as he walks past the door. 

At first, he thinks they’re just watching the crazy cat video that Suga goes crazy for. It’s not till he’s already out of eyeshot and he hears Suga murmuring, “we miss you so much,” that he realises they’re actually chatting to someone via video. He hears the low rumble of someone’s voice on the other end of the line as he walks back towards the living room. 

Of course Suga is the sort of person who checks in with his folks once a week. And Daichi is right there as the dutiful boyfriend. Maybe _he_ should call his parents more often now that he thinks about it. That’s the problem with knowing and living with someone like Suga. He makes every person he comes into contact with want to be better in some way, even when you thought you had it pretty much together. 

“Hey,” Noya says, throwing a sock at Tanaka’s head. “Daichi and Suga are Skyping with family, you got room for a second player?”

“Sure thing, my man!” he roars and together, the two of them manage to successfully upset the Sunday silence for the rest of the day. 

* * *

If there’s one thing he hates more than silence, it’s seeing his friends upset, especially when there’s nothing he can do to prevent it. He’s not someone who responds well to being helpless. It’s why he plays libero. He may not have the offensive control, but that ball doesn’t hit the ground until he says it does. 

He remembers each and every time he saw one of his friends crying for the first time. Not the overly dramatic tears like Tanaka sheds whenever he watches a movie about dogs, but the real kind. The kind that sometimes makes it uncomfortable to sit still or the ones that make him boil with fury at whatever it was that caused them. 

With Tanaka, it had been during their last weeks of their second year in high school when he’d finally broken down after a regular Monday night practice, spilling his guts that he had no idea what he wanted to do when he left school. How he loved volleyball, but knew he’d never be able to take it further and how he was scared of graduating. It turned out all he needed was a little perspective. Now that Noya sees how in love he is with cooking, he can’t imagine a time when Tanaka ever felt insecure about his future. 

His first time seeing Bokuto cry was just last year. Bokuto is a true storm of emotions just like they all are. Luckily, he’s not the sort of person to let things fester. Even if he spends most of an afternoon in one of his slumps, the smallest thing can bring him back up to the surface. But Noya soon learnt the difference between his outburst crying and his real crying, and that difference was the silence. He’d barely known him at all at the time, a blink of an eye compared to the friendship he had with Tanaka, but in their first month of living together, Bokuto had encountered his first growing pains in his relationship with Akaashi in their transition between high school and college. There had been one unforgettable week where he’d barely spoken, only for Noya to find him crying in the bathroom while shaving, admitting that Akaashi was thinking about taking a break. The following weekend, everything had somehow been resolved, but Noya still hasn’t forgotten what it felt like to hold a shirtless dude twice his size and letting him cry into his shoulder. There’s nothing quite like the sadness of watching the most positive person in the room break down.

And it’s a week after Daichi first visits Suga that Noya sees Suga cry for the first time. 

He comes home from class a little early, Tanaka and Bokuto still in lectures for about another hour, and he can hear Suga on the phone in the living room before he sees him. His voice has so many tones to it; it’s one of Noya’s favourite things about him. 

Right now, he’s using his hushed, soft tone. It’s one he’s heard numerous times, but this specific variation he knows for a fact belongs to Daichi. He’s heard Suga use it in cute little voice messages he sends him when he thinks no one can hear him, as well as Skype conversations in his room late at night with his earphones in.

Not wanting to intrude on what Suga believes to be a private moment, Noya hangs up his coat as loudly as he can to make his presence known. He hears the soft sounds of a farewell and a murmured, “I love you too, you big idiot,” as he finally makes his way into the room.

“Hey, you,” Suga says, his voice pitched noticeably higher. Noya decides he doesn’t like it. 

“What’s up?” he asks, grabbing a sports drink from the fridge. 

“Just trying to get all my studying done so I don't have any left when Daichi comes over tomorrow, or at least, not much left. I can always do the rest when he’s out for a run or something.” Noya watches him fiddle with the edges of his textbook and the notes he’s barely written by the looks of things.

“Look man, maybe this isn’t my place to say, but you don’t seem yourself. Everything alright with Daichi?”

Suga looks over at him and Noya is certain he could give even Bokuto a run for his money with those eyes. He instantly feels the pull in his gut when he knows he’s put his foot in it. Tanaka has always told him he’s too brash, too honest. He’s not really used to dealing with sensitive people on a regular basis. Maybe that’s part of the reason he’s still single. 

He walks over to where Suga is curled up on the couch and sees him tear up a little. Now that he can see up close, he’s pretty sure these aren’t the first tears he’s shed today. It makes him feel queasy. Suga is the strong one. What the hell could rattle a guy that confident.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” and when Suga stays quiet for a second too long, he adds, “...did you guys break up?”

Suga lets out a light, teary laugh at that, which soothes his nerves a little. “God, no, nothing like that,” he says, wiping one eye with the back of his hand. “He’s been an absolute rock since day one. No, it’s just…” 

Noya sits on the couch next to him, fighting the urge to interrupt or finish his sentence. 

“...It’s just hard, you know? The long distance, it’s… it’s hard for the two of us. We both feel it and it’s just… there’s nothing we can do about it. I mean, we make it work the best we can and we’re lucky that we get to speak to each other on a regular basis, and I don’t wanna sound ungrateful because I’m _so_ lucky to have what I have, but not being together for the first time, it’s… yeah… long distance is just hard.”

Truthfully, Noya thinks Suga is relatively lucky with the distance he and Daichi have and that seeing each other once a week for the entire weekend is already a pretty sweet deal considering he could have ended up in a university far away. He might get a job offer one day that takes him out of Miyagi altogether. For all intents and purposes, he would barely call his relationship with Daichi a long distance one at all.

But in a very rare act of kindness that he’s very aware he doesn’t always afford as often as he should, he buttons his lip. What the hell does he know about what is and isn’t a good reason to cry or how often Suga should want to see his boyfriend. He’s never had anyone in his life that he’s ever felt the need to cry about. He’s never _wanted_ anyone like that, not in the real way that went beyond a crush or fancy. He never knows if he’s lucky, or if he’s somehow missing out that he could fill the back of a postcard with what he knows about love. That he’s never had to lock himself in a room and cry over someone hoping others won’t hear.

Suga shakes his head a little as though snapping himself out of his funk and it works to snap Noya out of the clouds too. And there’s that smile again; carefree and certainly not true to how he really feels in this moment. 

“But hey, you didn’t come home after a hard day to hear me moaning and groaning about all that. How was class, you still struggling with that assignment? Sorry I can’t help much, sports science is a little beyond my capabilities besides ‘keep the foot elevated and get the ice’.”

He laughs, but Noya decides he’s having none of it. “Nice try,” he deadpans. “You think Kou and Ryuu are the only ones allowed to cry in this house?” 

Suga cocks his head in defeat and sniffs. “I guess you’re right,” he says. 

Noya narrows his eyes, determined to drag Suga back to his devilish self tonight if it kills him. “Look, starting college is a big adjustment, right? It was for me anyway. You shouldn’t feel bad just because you’re missing the way things used to be, even if it’s only been a few weeks. Hell, those first few are the fucking hardest if you ask me.” Suga blinks and smiles at him, creating an awkward pause. Noya shakes his head. “Jeeze, look at me giving you a lecture. If we’d gone to high school together, you’d have been my upperclassman for crying out loud.”

Suga laughs and nods his head, eyebrows raised. “Funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?” Noya smiles in return, feeling the thrum of success at turning that frown upside down. “Thank you, I… I think I really needed to hear that. I’m sure things will work themselves out, and there’s always the train, after all.”

“Look, if you ask me, what you need is to spend some time alone together, and I don’t mean _here_. I know we’re great company and all,” he smirks, hoping humour will carry the weight of the conversation, “but you guys need your own space for just a moment.” Having Daichi around is amazing, but not at the expense of Suga’s relationship. “Go away somewhere, even if it’s… I dunno, to the _zoo_ , even if it’s to a love hotel.” Suga laughs at that, a cheeky sparkle in his eyes. “Just… take some time together. If you’re crying about it now, it’s only gonna get worse if you do nothing. Go get loved up with your boy.”

Suga smiles and _this_ time, it’s one of his real ones. 

Noya feels his heart warm the same way it does when he manages to do the same for Bokuto or Tanaka. After all, it’s their smiles that keep _him_ going on the rare bad days. The days when he sometimes regrets not travelling the world instead of going to college. Of not moving to Tokyo for a more exciting life when he had the chance, but listened to his family instead. Of not going pro. College won’t last forever. He’ll have his time. He hopes. 

“You know what?” Suga says, lightning up like a candle, just a tiny but noticeable burst of happiness. He’s rarely over the top, or maybe it’s just relative to the rest of them. “I think you’re right. I need to figure out if I can afford it,” he adds in an amused mumble, “but I’ll have a serious think about it and maybe I’ll get the train next weekend and visit.”

He gets up off the couch with a genuine spring in his step. “I’m gonna make a start on dinner prep so Tanaka doesn’t have as much to do when he gets home.”

“You got it!” Noya says, picking up his phone to finally start scrolling.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and Suga murmurs a content, “thanks, Nishi,” before moving to the kitchen and leaving Noya reeling in the pleasant ache of the brand new nickname. 

* * *

It’s three days later, after Daichi leaves to go back to Karasuno again after his second visit, that Noya first wishes for the ability to unhear something. Of all the things he’s heard in his life, whether it’s a verbal fistfight or sounds coming from Bokuto’s room that make him legitimately jealous sometimes, it’s one overheard phone conversation with Suga that turns his stomach and makes him wish he’d been in another room, had his earphones in, been able to unknow what he’s learnt.

It’s really not his fault he has sensitive hearing. He got used to honing his senses too much as a libero and that raw animal instinct hasn’t left him even now. 

He wakes from a nap that he very rarely takes, only after pulling too many all-nighters for even his lively body to handle.

He quickly realises that he’s left his bedroom door open and that it was the sound of the slamming front door that woke him. He assumes it’s Tanaka or Bokuto barrelling into the house at 100 kilometres per hour, and he just groans, feeling sandpaper behind his eyes already. This is why he doesn’t nap. Early mornings are great, but not mid afternoon wake up calls. 

He feels the agitation build at being woken, but concedes his own failure when he remembers he would usually be in class at this time, the class which he skipped today in order to catch up on sleep. It’s hardly Tanaka’s fault for charging around the house when he doesn’t know Noya is here. 

But it’s _Suga’s_ soft voice that he hears coming from the living room a couple of minutes later, which mildly catches his attention. Suga doesn’t charge into places. He enters. With style. He’s not a savage like the rest of them, unless alcohol is involved. But when he hears the higher pitch of his voice and the breathlessness of it as he speaks - presumably down the phone - he realises it’s because he’s excited about something. 

With the vaguely interesting mystery of the midday intruder solved, he closes his eyes to see if sleep will blessedly claim him once more or if he’ll haunt the house like a zombie for the rest of the day. 

“Well, seeing as Daichi is running a weekend training camp for his kids and won’t be visiting, I thought I’d come down on the express and see you. I should have the money…”

Noya’s eyes blast open so fast he’s surprised they don’t get sucked all the way back into their sockets. That is most _definitely_ Suga’s voice. Well, there are many voices that Suga possesses. The one when he’s scolding them, the one when he’s exchanging dirty drunk stories, the one when he’s encouraging. 

_This_ is most definitely Suga the boyfriend, or at the very least, Suga the lover. That is the voice Noya’s only ever heard him use with Daichi.

“We can spend _aaaall_ weekend together…” 

Only Noya has _never_ heard it that deep, that cheeky. He’s never listened in on one of their private conversations to be fair, but he _knows_ Suga isn’t talking to Daichi right now. 

“Oh hon, I know that’s not ideal, but… look, maybe when schedules align better, yeah? Golden Week? That would be… _so_ amazing…”

His fatigue well and truly gone, Noya bolts upright, ready to charge into the living room for a confrontation. Or at least an explanation. He doesn’t take kindly to being wrong about people, particularly when he lives with them. Particularly when they’ve had a significant positive impact on his life. It feels too much like a mockery, even if he’s not the one being cheated on here. 

He’s halfway to his door when his feet stop moving. Of their own accord? Of his? He has no idea. But what he knows is it’s in response to hearing Suga’s barely-there whisper, a crack in his voice, say, “I miss you so much, Asahi…”

Standing there in his room, with only a wall between them, Noya doesn’t need to see Suga in front of him to see the red eyes, to hear the sniffling, to notice him putting up a good front when he’s suffering. The image of a few days ago is so burned in that he doesn’t need it. He might as well be standing there in the room with him. 

When Noya was young - he forgets precisely how young - his parents had had a six month period where they didn’t speak to each other at all. They communicated through looks, notes and anything in between. He’d been too naive to understand what was happening at the time, only that it was bad enough to cause the air in the house to become unbreathable. Over time, his mother had chosen to forgive his father for the affair and their marriage had ended up stronger for it.

He doesn’t know if this will make Suga and Daichi any stronger. He doesn’t know how bad it must really be for the two of them if someone as kind and seemingly morally straight as Suga is screwing around behind the love of his life’s back. He doesn’t know if, despite the positive outcome to their conversation earlier in the week, Suga decided that long distance was just more than he could handle. That someone closer, more immediate, was what he needed to calm whatever ache is living inside him.

Noya feels his palms sweat at his knee jerk reaction to shout, kick and scream and throw Suga out of the house for his actions and seemingly self destructive decisions. He’s the last person to lecture someone for self destruction. 

And yet Suga has treated him with nothing but kindness, patience and respect. No quips about his height, no interrogating him over his choice in degree, no trying to set him up with random strangers like most of his paired up friends have done. 

Because it’s true that in the last few weeks, Suga has slowly, stubbornly, become a friend. He’s become part of that family that Noya refuses to admit he cherishes. And for that reason alone, if it has to be a choice between defending Daichi’s honour and minding his own business, he has to give Suga his understanding and his silence. He has to trust that he knows what he’s doing. 

As he continues to hear the sweet nothings being murmured down the phone to whoever this side guy Asahi is, Noya sneaks up to his bedroom door and slowly, gently, his heart skipping even at the possibility of the tiniest click in the quiet of the house, closes it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/misssnowfox.cosplays/) or [Tumblr](https://foxwatchesanime.tumblr.com/) to spam me with feels or come speak to me in some of the Haikyuu discords I'm in <3


	3. Chapter 3

Meeting and living with Suga is in many ways, Bokuto thinks, like stepping into a warm bath after a hard, brutal game with their neighbourhood team. The soreness in his muscles feels great, it feels like he’s accomplished something. But sumberging himself into that warm water, letting it soothe thim, letting it prepare his body for the next day, and the next, is equally as important. Not necessarily better, just different. 

Noya and Tanaka are what break down his muscle fibres; they have an energy that will always match his own no matter what he needs to get excited about. He also knows that Noya will kick his ass if he ever lets his funks get the better of him. 

But Suga is different.

It’s not that Bokuto has never heard him shout, quite the opposite. He often gets what he calls the _positivity chop_ to his stomach whenever he’s close to falling apart over forgetting his lines or not being good enough. It’s always paired with a growl that Noya would almost certainly be proud of.

But Suga possesses a quiet about him, even in his loudest moments, that should, technically, make Bokuto his least favourite roommate on the planet. At his first high school, finding friends wasn’t necessarily a struggle, so much as keeping them. Or at the very least, keeping them past the surface level interactions that don’t have the ability to bore someone to literal tears. There’s only so many people that want to be within a ten meter radius of a guy who barely takes breaks to breathe, let alone stops talking for long stretches of time. It’s why he has nothing but fond, delightful, heartwarming memories from his second high school here in Miyagi when he moved for his final year. More specifically, he thanks his lucky stars for the team he’d gotten to play with while he was there, even if it was for a short time. They’d become his superheroes, they’d been subject to his each and every idiosyncrasy tenfold compared to anyone else he met, chief among them being Akaashi.

In many ways, Suga reminds Bokuto of him. He just lets Bokuto talk for as long as he wants, never interrupts him or tells him he’s too much. He’s definitely not as quiet as Akaashi, although, admittedly, standing next to Bokuto, varying levels of quiet tend to cease to exist. After a while, the noise level can only be categorised as _his_ volume versus other people’s volume. But Suga _is_ equally as harsh. 

Sometimes Bokuto wonders what he ever did to deserve both Noya _and_ Suga, especially on the days when they decide to double team him. He wonders if this is what having brothers feels like and he’s daydreamed on more than one occasion how much fun it would have been if the three of them had been his real brothers growing up. 

But Suga is only harsh on him in the moments when Bokuto is being harsh on _himself_. He never mocks him about the way he chooses to style his hair or his funky t-shirts or the fact that he likes to crawl into bed with Owlkaashi on his down days. If he does think it’s weird, he at least never says so to his face. In contrast to Tanaka - who had pointed and laughed, one hand clutching his belly, because Noya’s gift had apparently been _that_ hilarious to him - Suga had just cooed and admitted, “not gonna lie, I’m kind of jealous of him,” the first time he’d seen it. “Maybe I should get one,” he’d said with a smile when Bokuto had offered Suga the privilege of holding Owlkaashi, smiling as he stroked his adorable beak. “I could name mine Owlsahi maybe.” It was a bit of an odd thing to say, especially since _Owlchi_ sounded way more like Daichi’s name if they were going for that theme. But he’d kept his mouth shut, because Suga was smarter than him in a lot of ways and maybe he was coming up with his own owl-themed naming system that Bokuto wasn’t aware of. 

At first, it had bugged him how smart Suga seemed to be and how nothing seemed a struggle for him at school. Having been the butt of way too many jokes at the expense of his own intelligence, to say that Bokuto was a little bit sensitive on the subject was an understatement. 

Seeing Suga studying in their first week, just casually sitting there in the living room with his books open, had pissed him off so much that he’d grabbed his own homework that he’d been putting off and slammed it onto the table in a grump. He wasn’t going to be beaten, especially not by the new guy.

Despite the extra hours of studying that Suga’s presence had inadvertently dragged out of him, he still found the same roadblocks that he always had - memorising lines was too hard, writing his self-reflective reports and peer reviews of his classmates was too wordy. He just wanted to act and mess around with his friends. 

“ _Urgh_! Why am I so _STUPID_?!” He’d screamed one evening while Noya and Tanaka were at the gym. _He’d_ had to stay behind having, once again, failed to learn his lines in time.

He hadn’t even noticed Suga was still in the room with him. He’d only been living there for a couple of days at the time and Bokuto still hadn’t quite gotten used to another body loitering around the house. But he soon appeared by Bokuto’s side with a soft, but _very_ firm, “you are _not_ stupid, Bokuto.”

“Then why won’t this go into my _head_?!” he groaned, bending and crumpling the papers in front of him as much as he could get away with without actually ripping them. “I need to learn this by tomorrow and they just—just— _URGH_!”

Suga sat down opposite him at the table.

“Have you ever had someone run lines _with_ you?”

“Tanaka helps me out when he can, and Akaashi will help me over the phone when he’s not free to visit, but… it’s mostly just me…”

“Then it’s nothing you’re doing wrong, it’s all to do with the method,” Suga said.

“Method?”

“Yeah, I’m learning about this in class right now. Everyone learns differently; Some people have to see things, some people prefer to listen, some people prefer to touch and feel the stuff they’re trying to learn. That song you’ve been singing all day every day recently - how long did it take you to learn the lyrics?”

Bokuto blinked, fighting the urge to sing it now that Suga’s brought it up. “Like… in an hour maybe? I didn’t mean to, it just sorta stuck. I had it on repeat for a few times and I came up with my own dance moves too.”

“Exactly! So there’s nothing wrong with your memory, it’s just that you’re not using it to its full potential.”

He slumped in his seat and fiddled with the corners of the abused script he’d taken his anger out on. 

“Look,” Suga said, “why don’t I take over Tanaka’s position as your scene partner, huh? You think he’d mind?”

Bokuto sat up so fast, he’s pretty sure he felt his spine realign itself. “You’re serious?!”

Suga laughed. “I’m serious. And hey, it’s good practice for me too, I am going to be a teacher, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I have some kind of exposure to actually _teaching_ someone?”

“Sugaaaaaa,” he whined, feeling his heart explode in a chaotic rhythm. He then looked around, even though he was aware that the others were out of the house. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. “You’ll probably do a better job than Tanaka, he never put in much effort,” he said in a hushed voice, “he didn’t even do voices, although to be fair, his own voice is pretty hilarious.”

“Well, I promise I’ll do all the voices you want. It sounds like fun, actually.”

Bokuto drummed his fingers against the wood of the table and grit his teeth in excitement. “You’re my favourite roommate for today!”

Suga raised his eyebrows in obvious amusement. “Just for today, huh?”

“Oh well, you know, it changes every day,” Bokuto said, “I can’t actually _choose_ between you guys, like one day Tanaka will make my favourite food just for me, another day Noya compliments me on my spikes. So it’s just easier for every day to start fresh!”

“I guess that actually does make a lot of sense,” Suga said with a smile. “You’re a pretty smart guy, Bokuto.” 

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and his body vibrate as he balled up his fists in the joy. But before he could let it out in a squeal, Suga interrupted him with a— “none of that now, we’re not letting that go to your head, big guy.” Seeing Bokuto deflate like a used balloon pulled a delighted giggle out of Suga’s mouth and he clapped his hands together like a magician about to do a trick. “Right!” he chirped, “time to get those lines learnt!” 

In the few weeks he’s been with them since then, Suga has revolutionised the way Bokuto learns his lines. Not only is it ten times more fun with Suga (Bokuto was forced to spend a full hour heaping praise on Tanaka when he found out that Suga was apparently a better partner than him, even though Bokuto knows full well how relieved he was to be freed from his job) but he gets the job done in half the time. They even sometimes have a chance for a second run through on the days when he does exceptionally well. 

“Yeeeaaah, hey hey HEY!” he cheers following their latest early finish, fitsts clenched, arms in the air, chair tilted back so much he’s surprised it hasn’t tipped over. 

Suga’s eyes are wild and delighted when he comes back down to earth and he claps his hands like a hummingbird. “That was the best read so far, _god_ this is a good play!”

“ _Isn’t_ it, though?!” Bokuto growls. “I can’t believe I learnt these lines so many days in advance, you’re freaking _awesome_ Suga, you’re like some kind of genius!”

“You do realise _you’re_ the one who learnt them all,” Suga says with a smirk.

“Yeah, with _your_ help! We can do a second run through this weekend and make sure it’s even better!”

“Ahhh, no can do this weekend, I’ll be in Tokyo,” Suga says, softening his eyes. “But you don’t need me, your reads were fantastic. The best thing you can do over the weekend is take a load off, maybe go to Akaashi’s place and relax or something?”

Bokuto knows he’s saying something, but he doesn’t quite register what it is, because all he can think is, “Tokyo?! Can I come?!”

Suga laughs and leans back in his chair. “What for?”

Bokuto fidgets in his seat, grinning like a maniac. “I used to live there! Well, till I was 16, then my parents moved to Miyagi where I finished up my final year - that’s where I met Keiji! Staying here for college was just cheaper, so I just never went back to Tokyo, but I still have friends there and I barely get to see them anymore.”

Suga folds his arms and raises his eyebrows, “Oh wow, I didn’t know that,” he says, “that’s a shame about your friends though.”

Bokuto gives him a slight flick of the wrist. “Yeah, well, we’re gonna do a huge trip around Japan after Keiji graduates so we can figure out where we wanna live, so maybe we’ll end up back there, who knows!” He then leans over the table, closing in like a hawk. “Speaking of which, I can come with you, right?”

Suga laughs once again. “I really don’t think what I’m going there for would interest you, Bokuto.”

“And what is that, exactly?” he challenges, only to receive one of Suga’s devil smirks. He’s still not used to those. There’s something about them that reminds him too much of a deadly combination between Kenma’s nonchalance and Kuroo’s deceptiveness. Far too dangerous for his liking. God, he misses them sometimes.

“You of all people should know that, what with living apart from Akaashi. But I guess maybe you’re just too young…” he tilts his head to the side, lifting the cadence of his voice and feigning aloofness. 

Bokuto frowns. “I can see Noya’s had a damn good influence on you already.” The taunt sidetracks him for a second and it’s not till he rewinds his hearing to the first part of that sentence that his eyes go wide. 

“Ooooooh,” he says, then matches Suga’s devil grin with one of his own. “Lucky boys,” he coos, “how hot is the hot date gearing up to be then? How many hours in the love hotel? Or maybe the entire night?”

Suga has such a cool, mysterious air about him even when he doesn’t mean to. Suga won’t say something like _“me and Daichi are going to rent a love hotel in Tokyo so we can screw all weekend long and be as loud as we want”_ , he’ll say, _“you of all people should know.”_ It’s equal parts fascinating and frustrating for someone as nosy as Bokuto, although he sometimes wishes he could be as cool as that; to say things in half truths and be able to move a conversation along with a smile alone. In the end, he just enjoys talking about himself a little too much to try. But Suga doesn’t seem to mind, and Noya and Tanaka provide him with more than enough opportunity to spar for the dominant place in a conversation. 

Suga gives him a playful tap and gets up from the table, probably on a mission to start dinner. “Why don’t you read through that script one more time, seeing as you have so much energy?”

Bokuto smirks at him and takes the opportunity to leave him to cook in peace while he still has the chance. 

* * *

“What the hell’s got you so bent out of shape?” Noya asks him the next day, setting down the modest bag of groceries he’d gone out for.

“Nothing,” he mutters, trying every trick under the sun to make it seem like he wasn’t just moping on the couch. 

“Bullshit.”

“I’m just bored, okay? Is that a crime or something?”

“No, but something tells me you’re hanging around like a bad smell because Suga isn’t here to tell you how amazing you are.”

“ _Jeeze_ , Noya, have a heart, buddy!” Tanaka calls from the other room. Walls like absolute paper.

Bokuto brings his knees up and makes himself physically smaller, anything to gain more sympathy. It’s a move that almost never works on Keiji but seems to be working particularly poorly today.

“It’s just the first weekend Suga and Daichi haven’t visited, so it’s weird in the house, that’s all,” he grumbles, furrowing his brow for good measure. Noya doesn’t even come close to giving him the sympathy he wants.

“Well seeing as you’ve got so much time to feel sorry for yourself, maybe you’d like to do the rest of my chores today?” he says with a scowl, “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Bokuto shakes his head as fast as his neck will allow. 

“You wanna try sleeping at night then, Noya?”

“Tanaka, _shut it!_ ” 

But it’s true, Noya only goes full-on Sergeant Mode when he’s sleep deprived. Killing two birds with one stone, Bokuto gets up and stomps straight to his room, picks up Owlkaashi and in one graceful movement, drags Noya by his t-shirt straight into Tanaka’s room. The squawks and cries he gets in return almost make him look back to check if it’s Noya he’s holding onto or a real life sparrow.

“What’s all this?” Tanaka asks, looking up from his comic.

“We’re gonna nap,” Bokuto says and in no uncertain terms, points to the bed. It takes five minutes of blood curdling screaming and a great deal of toing and froing before Noya and Tanaka agree, half of the argument being taken up by the insistence that that “ _damn owl_ ” is to not come anywhere near them. 

Bokuto wins the fight, like he does every time they do this. And for a couple of hours, they all forget the emptiness that Suga left behind. 

* * *

Bokuto doesn’t even give Suga a chance to breathe when he returns on Monday morning. He’s on him like a rash, clinging and ruffling his hair. 

“Did you buy us any presents from Tokyo?!” he yelps, giving Suga several quick, playful punches to the arm. Suga responds in turn by grabbing him by the back of the neck and gifting him a noogie. 

“The only thing he’s probably brought back from Tokyo is a limp,” Tanaka says as he joins them in the hallway.

“Imagine knowing what that’s like,” Noya says, crossing his hands in front of his chest and smirking. “Ryuu, we should draw a line across the house and split up the gross couple roommates from the badass single ones.”

“But then Suga won’t be able to cook with me!” Tanaka wails. “Speaking of which, dude, I made an awesome breakfast, you gotta come try it!”

“He’s just walked through the door, man,” Noya says. “Also, Suga’s not the only one around here who can help you cook, you know?”

“Awww, don’t get _jealous_ now!” Tanaka jeers, poking Noya in the waist.

Bokuto can hear the remnants of their argument fading away as he follows Suga into his room like a shadow, vibrating with the renewed energy in the house. 

“You need help unpacking?” he asks, already opening Suga’s back and taking things out. The sooner Suga is done, the sooner they can all play video games on their Monday morning off together. 

“It’s okay, Bokuto, I really didn’t bring much with me, it was only for the weekend. Although—!” His voice goes high and he joins Bokuto in rummaging through the small, simple bag he’d brought with him on his trip. “Loooook—” he pulls out a polaroid camera “—at _this_!”

“Cooooool!” Bokuto squeaks and holds his hands out, turning the thing over in his hands when Suga dares to hand it to him. “This is freaking cool, dude, it’s like out of a movie or something. I’ve never actually seen one in real life.”

“It’s awesome, isn’t it? I was a gift.” Suga says, already folding up the clothes he’s taken from the bag. 

Bokuto proceeds to look through the viewfinder and pretends to snap a sequence of photos, complete with sound effects as though he’s the paparazzi. “Way too freaking generous if you ask me,” Suga sighs, “but that’s Asahi all over for you. Big old idiot…” 

Bokuto can’t see his face what with being very preoccupied with the viewfinder, but Suga’s voice sounds soft and fond as he mentions whoever this guy Asahi is. Probably a family member or something if he’s referring to him by his first name.

There’s a quiet, incessant buzzing that fills the room and he hears Suga say, “oh, speak of the devil. Feel free to mess around with the camera, we should take a house photo with it or something, it saves digital versions!”

His voice becomes distant as he leaves the room and crosses the short distance to the bathroom across the hall, presumably to take the call in private. 

Bokuto finally finds the function on the camera that allows him to see the digitally saved polaroids and clutches it tighter in excitement. There’s something ridiculously fascinating about something that can create a physical image in his very hands out of seemingly nothing. 

He flicks through the very few photos that Suga had time to take on the camera since he was gifted it, but something already rubs him up the wrong way. None of the pictures seem to have Daichi in them. They’re either all of Suga or some random guy with a man bun and a goatee he’s never seen before; presumably the dude who bought the thing in the first place. Maybe Daichi is just a little camera shy, even if that’s hard to believe considering how he comes across.

It’s not till he skips to the next image that his heart stops dead. 

A picture - using a timer by the looks of it - of Suga and Man Bun, arms around each other on someone’s couch, eyes closed and in the middle of what looks like a sweet and tender kiss. 

Somehow, he manages to catch the camera as it tumbles in and out of his hands, accidentally pressing a button as he does so. He jumps when he hears the electric beep of the printer going off. 

“ _Shit shit shit shit—_ ”

It’s too late.

The kissing photo prints and Bokuto looks around in a dazed panic at the thought that someone saw or heard him. The second the image is out of the camera he stuffs it into his pocket and attempts a look of innocence for when Suga comes back in.

Only Suga hasn’t come back in yet and now that the ringing in his ears has subsided somewhat, Bokuto can hear his quiet voice from the bathroom across the hall. He tries not to listen in, but it’s physically beyond him at this point.

“Oh yeah?” he hears in a low… definitely _flirty_ murmur. “I have _no_ idea where I could have lost them, maybe check under your mattress…” he finishes with a chuckle that Bokuto has _never_ heard from him. It actually makes his cheeks heat. 

He places the camera down on Suga’s desk before he has a chance to do any more damage and in a mad rush, reaches for the photo he’d shoved away before. It’s fully developed now. As he stares at it, his heart starts beating as though he’s about to drop the opposing team with a feint. As though he’s about to deliver a killer line in a play. 

He wants so desperately to run across the hall and hug Suga. He can’t even imagine what went wrong with Daichi so quickly that they felt the need to call it quits. A small part of him wants to call Keiji and tell him how much he loves him. Because if a couple like Daichi and Suga can hit a conclusion, then what does that say about _their_ relationship? 

He tucks the photo back into his jeans and tries not to let the sadness overwhelm him. Keiji has told him for years that he feels things too deeply, especially things that are outside of his control and even things that happen to other people. 

Listening in on Suga’s chirpy, carefree voice, however, it’s clear that whatever happened and whoever this new guy is, he’s happy. And he’s been reliably informed that you should feel happy for your friends’ happiness. Even if thinking about a break up makes you want to reevaluate what it means to be in love.

He takes the photo with him as he pads back to the living room where the other two are blissfully unaware of the secret he’s just uncovered, and leaves Suga’s voice behind to finish his call in private.

* * *

He lasts a whole day before he explodes. 

Out of all three of them, it seems cruel that _he_ was the only one to discover this information, when he’s also the worst at keeping anything to himself that affects him on any sort of emotional level. If he doesn’t talk to the other guys, he'll explode at _Suga_ and even he knows that’s a terrible idea. 

He waits till Suga goes out for his pre-class run that morning and slams the Polaroid on the breakfast table, trying to attempt a facial expression that doesn’t betray how much he’s tossed and turned over this information last night.

“Did you guys know that Daichi and Suga broke up?”

Tanaka nearly spits out his food and Noya’s eyes go wide, but otherwise he says nothing. He looks down at the image, slightly obstructed by Bokuto’s hand and his eyes return to normal. They almost look sad.

“Oh.”

“ _Oh_?!”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Noya counters. “It’s none of our business. But if you want my five cents, I don’t think he and Daichi are broken up.”

“You’re covering it up, _lemme_ see that!” Tanaka grows at the same time as Bokuto directs his comment at Noya, “how do you know that?”

“The fuck?!” Tanaka shrills before Noya can answer, holding onto the photo as though it’s poisonous. “Wait—” he peers at it for a few seconds before his eyes go wide. “You guys… I think that’s Asahi!”

“Asa—” Bokuto silently rolls the name around on his tongue and then it hits him. “I’ve heard that name! I think that’s the guy who gave him the camera, that’s who he was with in Tokyo this weekend! I’m telling you, he and Daichi _must_ have called it quits sometime last week.”

Tanaka shakes his head. “No way man, first time I heard this guy’s name was when Suga first moved in with us. That’s definitely the same guy, he asked me to mail a package to Tokyo _and_ he said he had long hair.”

“But…” Bokuto tries to find a point for his eyes to focus on, scrambling for any excuse to slow down the inevitable conclusion. “I…” 

He looks down and tries not to let the betrayal suffocate him. It’s not even _his_ relationship. He has no right on this earth to have any reaction to what he’s just found out. Except of course, he trusted Suga implicitly and now he feels that knowledge of him that he thought he possessed slowly prized from his hands. It’s not him that’s being cheated on. And yet for some reason, he feels a weight on his heart crushing him so hard that he very well could cry from this if he let himself. 

He looks up from the table, hoping to see optimistic and carefree faces looking back at him, but what he sees instead makes his stomach sink. Both of them look as forlorn and miserable as he does. 

He shakes his head. “You guys!” he says, forcefully lightening his voice, “this is _Suga_ we’re talking about here! He’s like our big brother for god’s sake!”

“Look, Koutarou…” Noya says, his voice unusually low. “Shit happens, you know? Let’s just be honest, we’ve only known Suga for about a month, if that. Maybe things are difficult between him and Daichi, maybe he’s got a reason for having an affair with Asahi—”

“—you know what guys?” Tanaka says. Thank god he interrupted, because Bokuto may have had to get up from the table. Tanaka will have something smart to say, he’ll get this all sorted out. “I… I don’t think Asahi is the guy Suga’s screwing around with…”

Bokuto’s brain slams the brakes and he skids to a halt at god knows how many kilometers per hour. He’s dizzy with confusion. “You mean…” he slurs, his tongue processing each vowel as though it will help him make sense easier, “there’s a third guy?”

“No, numbskull,” Noya grunts, “I swear, that owl has deprived you of oxygen in your sleep.”

“I’m gonna tell Keiji you said that when he visits this weekend. _And_ that you bought it for me.”

“ _Anyway_!” Tanaka chimes in, “my _point_ , is that when Suga first told me about Asahi, he told me he was his boyfriend. It confused the fuck out of me at the time but what if… guys, what if Daichi is his…”

“...thing on the side?” Noya supplies. 

Boktuo’s eyes shoot from one of them to the other as though he’s in the middle of the most traumatic tennis match of his life.

“You guys are _insane_!” he says, “Suga freaking worships the ground Daichi walks on.”

“So would I if the guy I was sleeping with had arms like that, dude,” Noya says, deadpan as ever, “but honestly, Kou? I think Tanaka has a point. It’s pretty likely that Asahi is Suga’s boyfriend and Daichi is the one he’s having the affair with. I mean who the fuck has a _long distance_ affair with a guy in Tokyo when you can screw a hot volleyball coach right here in Miyagi.”

“But—”

“Daichi said they went to highschool together, right? Sounds pretty textbook if you ask me. Something familiar. God, they probably all went to high school together and Asahi might even know the guy. My point is, we don’t know anything about the situation.”

“How are you so _calm_ about this?! Even Tanaka looks like he’s about to blow a fuse any second!”

Bokuto instantly regrets that question the moment it’s out of his mouth, because he does _not_ like that silence or the straight face Noya gives him one bit.

“Because I’ve known about Asahi for a couple of weeks now,” he eventually says. 

“You _what_?!” both Bokuto and Tanaka echo.

“I mean he didn’t _tell_ me, morons, I found out on my own. But I assumed he was local, someone for Suga to spend time with while he and Daichi couldn’t see each other.”

“And you didn’t think to _tell_ us?” Bokuto almost wails.

“Look, Kou,” Noya says, as patiently as Bokuto knows he’s able. “This shit is complicated. Would you want me to spread all your secrets around the house if you fucking knew how to keep any?” Bokuto scowls. “Suga is a good guy, right?” Both he and Tanaka nod. How could anyone argue with that. “Well then who cares about the rest? I’m not his boyfriend and neither are you guys, so it doesn’t concern us. He’s been a good friend to us and whoever he decides to stick it in in his spare time doesn’t change that. I just hope however it ends up for him, he ends up happy.”

There’s a pregnant pause that penetrates the conversation, before Tanaka says, “and we could just be getting the wrong idea. Maybe… maybe the word boyfriend just means something different in Karasuno…”

Noya turns his head to glare at him. “It’s the neighbouring town, not some foreign country, dummy. We all speak the same language.”

“I hope Tanaka is right,” Bokuto sighs. “I can’t… you okay, Noya?” he notices Noya’s attention unusually fixed on the photograph still in Tanaka’s hand, now in his field of vision that he’s looking at him. It’s a long, involved stare. Something private. Something he has to pull himself from.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “Look, can we just agree that we don’t mention this to Suga?” he takes a pointed look around the table. “ _E_ ver.”

There’s a murmur of confirmation from the two of them, before they collectively make a move to make themselves busy before Suga gets home. As Noya walks away from the table, Bokuto looks between him and the loved up image still sitting on the kitchen table, before hiding it in his jacket pocket.

* * *

It’s predictably hard to not bring up Asahi or Daichi or anything relating to the cheating once Suga gets back home and it continues to be as the days go on. Sometimes he’ll hear Suga on the phone - talking sweet, talking flirty, talking normal - and grips the pen in his hand even tighter trying to figure out who he’s talking to, whose heart he’s breaking that day.

He hates it. He doesn’t know how the other guys can live with the lies and the secrecy, especially when it’s been happening under their noses. Mostly, he just feels stupid. 

On Friday night, he starts to crack. 

Suga stretches at the table, away from his mountain of books, cracking his back and breathing, “sweet freedom! Hello Golden Week!” before disappearing to his room. Bokuto sees him emerge thirty minutes later after wandering between the bathroom and his room, humming and singing, before finally emerging in a nice shirt, a pair of jeans and smelling like the definition of a hot date. 

Bokuto snaps.

“Made plans for tonight?” he says, keeping his tone as even as he can. 

Suga smiles wildly as he gathers his wallet and keys, looking around the room for anything he might have left. 

“You bet I did.”

Bokuto grinds his teeth. “On your own?” he grumbles.

This earns him the knife stares of both Noya and Tanaka, who must speak to each other through their weird psychic connection they’ve always had, because they leap up simultaneously and start making so much pointless racket that Suga couldn’t reply even if he wanted to.

It ends with a wrestling match between the two of them, to which Suga just rolls his eyes and waves them off with a, “I’ll be back pretty late, don’t wait up or worry where I am!”

Once Suga has closed the front door, Noya and Tanaka extricate themselves from each other, the fight having turned a little too real in the middle there. Noya pants and says with a smug grin, “pay up, Tanaka.”

“Godammit,” he grunts. 

“What the—” Bokuto says and Noya turns that smug look on him.

“You think I thought you could keep your mouth shut for as long as one week? No chance. _This_ bald idiot over here however—”

“—I’m not bald—”

“—played right into my hands,” Noya concludes as he collects his coins. “You try that one more time, Kou, and I’ll feed that owl of yours to the neighbour’s dog.”

The threat carries, despite the jovial tone of his voice. “Oh yeah?” he says, his own smugness emerging when he remembers he’s twice Noya’s size. This means war.

He launches at the two of them like a bird of prey, the noise of their rumble echoing through the house.

* * *

He’s not a light sleeper by any means, but his room is nearest the front door and so when it slams open at what he assumes is devil o’clock, he’s immediately jolted awake, Owlkaashi tumbling to the floor in shock.

It takes him far too long to take in the darkness around him, the fact that he is, indeed, alive and this is his own bed and that he’s not on stage about to be given a standing ovation. Once he establishes that, he begins to calculate what the hell day it is and whether it’s time to get up. Not, it can’t be, he already noted it was dark outside. Finally, he stumbles on it being Friday when he went to sleep, which means when he wakes up, it will be time for Keiji to visit for the weekend. With that reminder to sooth his rattled brain, he picks up his stuffed friend and settles back into his pillow. 

Only that’s when he hears it. The forced sounds of someone attempting to be quiet and failing to do so. 

There’s a small bump against the wall in the hallway connecting his room, followed by a repressed giggle and a _shhhh,_ only the shushing is coming from _two_ voices. Daichi? Bokuto is _far_ from tired now and he perks his ears up like a police dog ready to catch the drug dealer. 

One voice is definitely Suga, if it wasn’t already obvious to Bokuto by the middle of the night wake up call. What quickly becomes apparent is that Suga is drunk. Maybe not parletically so, but veering slightly past tipsy if he’s tripping into walls. Bokuto wonders how he’s not woken the other two up yet, before he remembers they literally slept through an earthquake once.

Or maybe it’s the guy with him that tripped. He hasn’t made a sound yet, which frustrates Bokuto twice as much as if they were tearing the place down. He needs to _know_.

“ _Everyone’s asleep, we have to be quiet!”_ Suga whispers as Bokuto hears him approach his bedroom, the one adjoining to his own. 

“ _Suga you’re the one being loud,”_ the other voice says, sounding mildly panicked by the situation. That… doesn’t sound like Daichi at all. It’s deep - deep enough to resonate through the wall just like Daichi’s does whenever they’re having a hushed, low conversation. But it’s warmer. Or maybe that’s what Daichi sounds when he’s actually whispering? No, this voice is like honey with a soft drawl, one that seems almost inviting. Bokuto feels sick to admit it, but he has a sinking suspicion that Honey Voice belongs to Man Bun - belongs to Asahi. 

He repeats Noya’s mantra from the other day: that it’s none of his business, that he shouldn’t feel bothered by the situation. And for a minute or two, it works. The crashing and shushing subsides and he feels like going back to sleep might be within his reach.

And then he hears noises. 

Suga’s are familiar to him by now. He’s a conscientious roommate, but they were not blessed with thick walls and no matter how hard he tries, Bokuto still has become all too familiar with what Suga sounds like during sex. And if tonight is any indication, he’s certainly a lot less aware of his surroundings after a drink or two. If Bokuto arranges his head a certain way and uses Owlkaashi’s poor wings to cover his other ear, he’s almost back to a state of peace and quiet. 

Sex in the house usually rolls right off his back, but something about this situation rubs him up entirely the wrong way. Hearing Suga giggling, sighing, moaning and having what sounds like playful, loving, _intimate_ sex with someone other than Daichi is like seeing a dog walk on his hind legs. 

It’s when he’s a few deep breaths and a few pleasant, soothing thoughts away from sleep that Bokuto hears it. A barely audible, but distinct, sex-fuelled “ _love you_ ” that definitely sounds like Asahi’s, before it finally goes quiet. 

Only the thrumming in his ears remains and an entire ocean of possibilities spill out in front of him in that dark room. Entire movies, novels, plays about what on earth is going on in Suga’s lovelife. How he makes soulmate eyes at one guy and has another one telling him he loves him in their most intimate moments. He fabricates a million and one scripts for an outcome in which Suga is _not_ the bad guy, _can’t_ be the bad guy, and acts them out instead of counting sheep.

It must work, because when he opens his eyes, it’s already light outside. By the time he gets out of bed and pads his way across the house to make breakfast, he passes Suga’s room on his way only to find him and his mystery lover nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/misssnowfox.cosplays/) or [Tumblr](https://foxwatchesanime.tumblr.com/) to spam me with feels or come speak to me in some of the Haikyuu discords I'm in <3


	4. Chapter 4

It turns out, it doesn’t take long for nostalgia to kick in. Suga always thought it was something that took years to properly develop, to feel that pull towards the places you came from, the people you knew and the routines you used to have. In the end, all it took was a month of living in Sendai for him to turn to Asahi the morning after his arrival, a little hungover and sleepy, and suggest they jump on the first train to Karasuno rather than wait for Daichi to come to them like they’d originally planned.

“Why?” he asks in a low whisper, probably cautious of Suga’s still sleeping roommates around them.

Suga just shrugs and brings the steaming coffee to his lips, letting the smell envelop him and wake him up. He looks at Asahi’s bed head - one of the rare times he gets to see his hair fully down - his soft, sleepy eyes and the creases in his t-shirt. 

The answer to his question is a no brainer. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

It’s a Saturday, but thankfully for them, both of Daichi’s parents work in the mornings, so when they show up on his doorstep a few hours later to surprise him, they have more than enough privacy to celebrate the three of them being together again after a solid month apart. 

They manage to untangle themselves a while later, the early afternoon sun coming in through the curtains they never remembered to fully close before they got busy. It soon reminds them of the hours that have passed and their empty stomachs.

Daichi gets up first, sliding on a pair of briefs and giving them both a view of his muscled back that even gets Asahi blushing. 

“Got something to share with the class, Asahi?” Suga asks, sliding across the empty space Daichi just vacated and humming at the feel of Asahi’s arm wrapping around him with practiced ease. 

“I just…” his face goes even redder when Daichi turns his head to smile at them, flattered into silence, but no longer shy the way he used to be when they complimented his body. “I guess I forgot…”

“You forgot what?” Suga prods. “How hot our boyfriend is?” He gives Asahi’s stomach a few playful pokes.

“H-He— look, it’s _different_ over video, okay?” 

He slides down the headboard and tries to hide his face under the covers, but Suga sabotages his efforts. “You certainly don’t have an issue _explaining_ yourself whenever we’ve called you in the past month.” 

He then launches into a full blown tickle attack that has Asahi squealing high pitched noises that really shouldn’t be possible from someone with such a deep voice. 

Daichi puts a stop to his torture when he kneels down on the bed - having blessedly put on a shirt and shorts for Asahi’s sake - and takes Asahi’s face in both his hands, kissing him short but sweet. The way a husband would before grabbing his coat and heading out the door for work in the morning. 

Suga doesn’t even try to chase the butterflies out of his stomach at the sight. Asahi and Daichi, separated the longest out of all three of them so far this semester, together again, kissing, touching, smiling at the reality of being able to make real eye contact. The three of them in the same room again. No cameras, no earphones, just real breath and real muscle and the real vibration of three voices and three hearts beating, each in their own rhythm but so very much woven together. 

“Don’t tease him, Suga. That’s my job,” Daichi says with a smile against Asahi’s lips. Suga swears he _sees_ the stars in Asahi’s eyes. He can certainly relate to that feeling. 

“Wow, what do you know, distance not only makes the heart grow fonder, but also _softer_ , apparently,” Suga says, hiding half his face under the sheets from what he knows is coming.

Predictably, Daichi bites his lip and starts to poke at him over the sheets, trying to jab him anywhere he can. Suga squeals in delight, jerking and shoving, probably giving Asahi a bruise from how close he’s pressed to him.

“What was that?” Daichi laughs. “You _don’t_ want me to make you a snack after I just wore the two of you out?”

“ _Y-You—_ wore _us—_ out?!” Suga pants in between gasped giggles. “You hear that, hon?” he directs at Asahi, then turns his most devious of devious faces on Daichi. “Something tells me we need to try harder for round two.”

He sits up halfway, but before he has a chance to launch himself and show Daichi just how much there is left to wear out, he’s pushed back down with the pads of Daichi’s fingers and lands on his back with a surprised _oof_. He blinks up at the confident, amused curl of Daichi’s mouth.

“I’m starving,” Daichi says. “I’ll make us something and I’ll be right back.”

“From what Suga’s been telling me, _he’s_ the new chef around here,” Asahi smiles cheekily.

“I learnt from Tanaka, he’s the one whose cooking you _really_ need to try. God, I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

Daichi raises his eyebrows. “Oh, well in that case, maybe I won’t bother. Wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.” 

Suga shakes his head and crawls out of his and Asahi’s duvet fort to place a peck on Daichi’s lips. “Make us something tasty,” he murmurs. “But not too big. I have an idea for lunch.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

* * *

The three of them end up preparing a picnic together in Daichi’s kitchen, dodging and weaving amongst each other, a flirt here, a pinch there, laughter bouncing off the walls mixed in amongst comfortable silence in perfect balance. 

They take a walk - side by side, even if not hand in hand - to all their favourite spots from when they were in high school. To think that they would ever have become notable would have been laughable years ago. After all, there are very few checkpoints to tick off at all, let alone ones worthy of writing home about. And none of them are remarkable, not the river, not Ukai’s store, not the dreaded hill they used to run uphill dashes. But each place echoes with the ghosts of their teenage selves and makes them possessive over every detail.

They take a drive in Daichi’s family’s car once they’ve exhausted all their options. Even Suga forgot how little there actually is to do in Karasuno. “I could have told you that, I do still live here, you know,” Daichi mutters as they finally load the picnic food into the back. 

“This place makes me wanna build a time capsule or something,” Asahi says, settling into the front seat with Daichi, leaving Suga to occupy the back. 

“Oh, we should do that!” Suga gasps. “Maybe we’ll come back here at the end of Golden Week and come up with some stuff to put in it.”

“Sounds like an idea,” Daichi smiles. 

* * *

It takes them no time at all to fall back into old habits and natural rhythms. Daichi bullying Asahi for still eschewing the hair salon, the same joke played over and over like a beloved film on TV. Suga giving Daichi a slap on the arm but later teasing Asahi in his own way the second his back is turned. Suga and Daichi sharing looks of understanding as they both remember how right it feels to have their taller, larger boyfriend between them as they eat together in a gorgeous deserted area, staring out over the mountains. They fall back into Asahi’s tenderness towards both of them and the way he calms them without even trying. Daichi’s bitier attitude and the way it makes them all laugh and Suga’s cheekiness blossoming when he gets to play them both in different ways. 

On the way back to Karasuno, their car stutters to a slow stop and Daichi manages to pull it to the side of the road. 

“Shit!” he grunts.

“Shall I call a mechanic?” Suga asks, already pulling his phone out. 

“Let me take a look at it,” Asahi sighs and climbs out, strolling over to the hood. 

Suga watches him lift and disappear behind it and sighs in relief. Daichi’s car has given them nothing but grief ever since they started using it and he can’t imagine what they would have done without Asahi and his inherited bag of mechanical tricks from his dad. 

“God, I always forget just how much… I don’t know, _calmer_ he is since high school,” Daichi murmurs, leaning back for Suga to hear him. 

He leans forward and whispers into Daichi’s ear, “it’s because you’re here, silly. I’ve told you for years that you’re like this own special brand of meditation or something, just… a bit meaner.” He kisses the side of Daichi’s ear to soothe any bad feelings.

He chuckles. “I guess I never noticed the change over time, but being back here all of us together just makes me see it so much clearer.” Suga leans his head against his and let’s the rumbling of the engine and the sight of Asahi casually poking around under the hood relax him. 

“You ever miss it?” he finally asks, caught up in the absentminded press of Daichi’s thumb against the name of his neck.

“High school?”

“Hmm.”

“I miss us all being together,” he sighs, “but I wouldn’t change anything. We were younger then. Stupid. Or… _more_ stupid than we are now, I hope.”

Suga huffs a soft laugh.

“Alright!” Asahi’s voice calls from outside, and the slam of hood makes them both jump. “It just overheated! If we wait a little while, it should be fine!” 

As he walks back round to the passenger side door, Suga admires Asahi’s slightly grubby hands and the way he rubs them together as though it might make them cleaner. Grubby has always looked disgustingly good on him; a rough and ready contrast to his polite demeanor that’s utterly unfair.

“Well there’s a _thing_ I didn’t know I had,” Suga says, resisting the urge to wolf whistle. 

“Huh?”

“I think you just gave Suga a car fetish, babe,” Daichi says, leaning over and opening the door for him.

“Feel free to buy yourself some overalls anytime,” Suga purs, already feeling his cheeks heat at the mental image of Asahi rolling out from under a car with a bit of grease and oil on his face. _That_ will be keeping him company for the lonely nights ahead after Asahi returns to Tokyo, that’s for sure.

Asahi blushes and ducks his head. “You got a cloth in the glove box or something?” 

Daichi smirks. “Who says I don’t have a thing for seeing dirty too?” 

“Daichiiiii.”

“Alright, big guy,” he concedes, “here,” and tosses a rag directly into Asahi’s face. 

* * *

They spend the next fifteen minutes in the backseat in perfect, companionable silence as they wait for the engine to cool down. Asahi in the middle seat, Daichi and Suga on either side of him, tucked into the warmth of his arms. 

It might still be a little too chilly to roll the windows down, especially up on a mountain road, but the afternoon sun is doing wonders to heat the closed windows and Suga basks as it warms his cheek. He closes his eyes and can almost imagine the early summer heat that’s almost upon them; trips to the beach, ice cream, weeks and weeks off to hopefully spend in each other’s company.

He relaxes into Asahi’s hold and smiles when he catches the smell of his shampoo he asked Tanaka to send for him. It’s intertwined with the smell of his own laundry detergent and the pleasant muskiness of day-to-day exertion that tends to come by the late afternoon. He smells so different from Daichi, but just as pleasant. The distinct lack of any aftershave would always be his first indicator if he ever had to identify either of them blindly. 

Sometimes, though, when he hugs him goodbye at the train station during his infrequent trips back up to Miyagi, Suga can’t always tell his individual scent apart anymore. He recalls the times he’s pressed his nose into whatever shirt Asahi wore at the time, and would already pine before Asahi had even stepped onto the train at the mingled smell of the three of them on his clothes that only used to manifest itself at the end of one of his longer visits. A tangible, yet heartwrenching reminder that they _were_ together in the same place at some point. That their entire relationship wasn’t characterised by distance in every single moment. 

That smell has, by far, always been his favourite. Just one of the many things he knows they probably took for granted when their time together was plentiful. 

They switch the radio on and let whatever boring Saturday afternoon music keep them company. It’s an odd sort of silence - Suga can hear the low melody of the radio and the hum of the occasional driver passing them on the road and the whistling of the wind and the birds squabbling somewhere in a nearby tree. It’s the sort of silence that isn’t technically silent at all; A silence full of sounds, but no words. One that feels too fragile to touch with bare hands, but not uncomfortable.

He does break it, however; sighs, long and soft and feels Asahi tighten his arm around him ever so slightly. “God, it’s so much better when you’re here.” It comes out in a single, slow, warm breath against Asahi’s shirt. 

“Look who’s the softie now,” Daichi murmurs, a low rumble in his chest. 

“I’m sure you guys are getting on just fine,” Asahi says. Not with malice or bitterness, but a soft resigned hum.

“Will you stop that?” Suga scowls.

“Stop what?”

“You _know_ what.” Daichi bites. “Suga’s right,” he says, the harshness melting somewhat now that Asahi’s been rightfully reprimanded, “having you here just makes everything better.”

Asahi replies with a lengthy silence exactly as Suag expected he would, no doubt finding the right way to deflect the praise away from himself and onto them. “Being back here with you guys…” he finally replies. Suga can feel the rumble of his voice where he’s pressed close to his heart. “...I dunno, it just feels like I can breathe better…”

Not even Bokuto with his puppy dog eyes could stop the smile from spreading across Suga’s face. “That’ll be the Tokyo smog, hon,” he teases. 

He’s always considered all three of them to be relatively capable romantics, even if Daichi sometimes takes a little persuading to show his truly soft side. But it’s at times like these when he realises just how out of his depth Asahi makes him feel when he comes out with comments like that. He’s still the same hopeless romantic that moped when the two of them denied him the pleasure of having a third year farewell out under the stars before their last Summer Interhigh. Suga hopes to god that no matter how strong he gets and whatever demons he conquers - alone or with his and Dacihi’s help - _this_ part of him will never change.

Asahi fidgets at the teasing, but Suga doesn’t need to look to know he’s smiling. His heartbeat is still as steady as a drum.

“You should tell him, Suga,” Daichi says. Always the courageous one, never afraid to ruin a peaceful moment with something important.

“Tell me what?”

Suga sighs. “I’m just worried about you,” he murmurs. “In an ideal world… we’d all be fairly close to each other. And it’s not like the express train is a journey to the centre of the earth or anything but—”

“—It’s expensive,” Asahi supplies. 

Suga nods against his shirt. “I just can’t stand that me and Daichi ended up a stone’s throw away, we have a regular schedule, we see each other all the time. My roommates know him. We have regular spots that we eat out at, places we go to be alone. Hell, he has a side of the _bed_ at my place for crying out loud.” 

He feels Daichi reach over and take the hand nearest to him and Suga squeezes it gently in gratitude. “It’s not fair,” he sighs, finally getting to the point. “It’s not fair that we get to do all that and still _miss_ you even though we’re together. It’s not fair that we still get to do all that while you’re halfway across the country by yourself.”

“Well it’s not like we haven’t had the practice in terms of waiting,” Asahi says. “Waiting for nationals, waiting to get into college, waiting to afford a house.” He rubs Suga’s shoulder with his thumb. “And let me be clear, I’d rather wait on the other side of the world and know you guys will be here when we’re all graduated, than never have met you at all.”

Suga wants to let him finish talking, but the need to feel his lips against his overpowers his sense of politeness. He sits up, takes Asahi’s face in his hands and kisses him with all the longing of all those miles between them every day. “You know those aren’t the only two options, right dummy?” Suga says, finally smiling against his mouth.

“I think it’s…” Asahi says once his mouth is free, “kind of… romantic?” He tries to turn his head to hide it in Daichi’s shoulder, but Suga doesn’t let him. “You’ll think that’s so stupid, but that’s what gets me through it.”

“No, no, I get it. I guess being apart can sometimes… yeah, it can feel kinda romantic.”

“I guess we already have the whole ‘love that conquers social norms’ thing, why not one that conquers distance as well?” Daichi says, bringing his hand up to play in Asahi’s hair. The two of them somehow convinced him to keep it half down for their date. 

“There are good days and bad days,” Asahi tells them. “But unlike _some_ people,” he fixes Suga with sparkly-eyed amusement, “I only worked and saved for a year before I decided to start college. It’s just two more years. We waited even longer than that to get to nationals.”

Suga is about to open his mouth, but Daichi is already there, echoing him in every thought. “Since when did you start being the one to cheer _us_ up?”

Asahi smiles, more confident than Suga has ever seen him. He doesn’t know if it’s his place to feel proud of Asahi, if Asahi needs anyone’s pride but his own, but there’s really no other word to describe what’s blooming in his chest. 

“Maybe you should brave the big bad Tokyo and see?” he tells Daichi. Suga meets Daichi’s eye over Asahi’s slightly turned shoulder and knows he’s not the only one feeling the need to scream atop the mountain at how proud they are of their boyfriend for braving the big city to attend the fancy art school of his dreams.

“There’ll never be anyone else,” Asahi says, though Suga has a feeling he’s aiming it more towards Daichi, knowing that he’ll always be the one to put on the biggest smile and cry the biggest tears in private. It’s frustrated Suga in the past how Daichi and Asahi never seemed to talk in the same way the rest of them did. How Daichi always had a firmer hand when it came to the way he communicated, rather than just saying what he meant, no matter how emotional. Now, however, he realises it’s because the two of them have always had a truly special way of communicating that’s entirely their own. Asahi wants and loves Daichi the way he is - not softer, not a pushover for anyone or anything. It just took Suga a little time to truly see what was always right under his nose. “I don’t _want_ there to be anyone else. So I’ll wait.”

Just that simple. No second thoughts, no doubt. What a difference a few years can make.

“At the risk of ruining a beautiful moment, that was actually going to be _my_ question,” Daichi says, a catch in his voice. “Did you ever consider dating?”

Asahi raises his eyebrows, but his eyes twinkle in amusement. “You think we’ve got the room for one more?” 

“Definitely no room on this backseat, that’s for sure,” Suga chuckles, doing his best to dispel whatever awkwardness is bound to arise from this conversation. 

“I didn’t necessarily mean it would encroach on what we have,” Daichi says. “I’m not even saying it needs to be a proper relationship or… I don’t know _maybe_ it could be a relationship but my point is…” he stops to gather his words, “...it’s just like what Suga said before, you’re on your own and you’re going to be on your own for the next two years. We’re not saying you _have_ to date, but don’t close yourself off to the possibility if you think it’s something that might make you happy.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Suga says, hammering his point home by wrapping his arms around one of Asahi’s much larger ones. “We’re just saying that if there’s ever someone you like, if there’s ever someone that you think you want to spend more time with, then we’re fine with it. We’d be _happy_ about it,” he corrects. 

“We just want you to be happy,” Daichi continues, “and if you’re happy now, that’s amazing, if you’d be happy or happ _ier_ dating, that’s also great.”

Asahi takes a long moment for himself and Suga wonders for a moment if they should have waited till the end of the trip for this conversion. “What would you guys prefer?” he finally asks. 

Suga should have probably predicted that _that_ would be his first question. Instead of letting the frustration get to him at Asahi always putting them first, he does what he does best; honesty.

“I know I’d sleep better at night knowing you’re not feeling touch starved or lonely,” Suga says. “And I’m not saying you _are_ , but if you are, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve even felt it not seeing _Daichi_ during a stressful week and I live with three cuddle monsters.”

Daichi chuckles at that. “If you’re happy with your friends and school and seeing us as often as we can, then we’ll never bring it up again,” he says and Suga nods along with him.

“So I guess the _actual_ answer to what we’d prefer is we just want you to be as happy as possible during the time that we’re still apart,” Suga says, wanting to wrap the conversation up before Asahi suffers from information overload. “The distance is hard, I’m not going to lie to you about that, but I know for me it would be that much easier if I knew you’d tell us if you’re struggling and that you’d do something about it if you felt you needed to.”

“Like dating?” he asks. It doesn’t sound accusatory, more curious, like he’s testing the water of an idea he’s probably never even considered. 

“Possibly, but like Daichi said, it doesn’t need to be serious if you don’t want to. But you’re living in Tokyo, meeting all these amazing people every day. Just… I don’t know, let a guy buy you dinner, tell you how hot you are. Or _you_ buy someone dinner, whatever suits you.”

Asahi _does_ blush at that and Daichi has the good sense to interrupt and say, “we’re just saying _think_ about it,” with a teasing grin at Asahi’s fluster. “If you don’t want to, you don’t want to, simple as that. Nothing between us is going to change, you know that right?”

Suga doesn’t say anything else, just strokes Asahi’s arm and prays the message got through the way they intended.

All of a sudden, the previous soothing silence of the car becomes suffocating. The radio gets on Suga’s nerves and the wind picking up outside sets his teeth on edge as he waits for Asahi to say something. 

Finally, after what feels like a year and a day, he murmurs, “you guys know I’m not… good… at this sort of stuff. I never have been, right?” He takes a deep breath and they both let him. “But I know you guys are probably right, I just… there’s no one else I think I’d even want. You guys are…”

“I know,” Daichi says and then, so quiet that Suga barely hears him, murmurs, “I feel the same way…”

Suga doesn’t care what happens for the rest of Asahi’s visit. This is the moment he’ll dream about weeks from now when the magic is over and Asahi takes the smell of all three of them home on his clothes once more.

“And that’s okay,” Suga whispers, giving him a kiss on the side of the head. 

“But… I won’t rule it out, okay? I’ve been trying to… I don’t know, get myself out of my comfort zone. Do more things that scare me,” he says, making himself smaller between them, shoulders hunching in a little. Suga strokes him through it. “So I’ll keep it in mind, I promise.”

Suga leans in and kisses him as sweetly as he knows how. It’s a _thank you_ more than an actual kiss. “That was all we needed to hear from you, Asahi,” he says. 

And just like that, the peaceful silence is restored. In the end, it will always be like this between them - understanding, patience, respect - and it’s why Suga knows they’ll survive the long haul of the awkward and difficult years ahead. 

“Maybe time to lift the mood a little?” Daichi asks, letting his voice resonate a little more now that the awkwardness has dissipated.

Suga narrows his eyes. “We are not having sex in this backseat ever again, we won’t be so lucky this time as to not end up in hospital.”

Daichi cackles and Asahi stiffens, mortified. “That’s _not_ what I was talking about. I just thought we could head back and hit up an izakaya, give Asahi a little taste of Sendai.”

“I’m kind of excited to meet these roommates of yours,” Asahi mutters, “but I’m not sure if I’ll regret saying that…”

“Did you not meet them this morning?” Daichi asks. 

Suga giggles. “We had to sneak out early. But we’ve told them so much about you Asahi—”

“—all bad of course,” Daichi says just loud enough to be heard.

“—that they’re halfway in love with you already, probably.” Suga slaps Daichi on the shoulder without so much as blinking away from Asahi.

“You’re going to love them,” Daichi chuckles.

Asahi nods and rubs his hands against his thighs. “Guess I better check if that engine’s cooled down then,” he says and shuffles out of the back and over to the hood. 

Suga crosses one leg over the other and his mouth curls into a smile. “We’ll enjoy the show from here!” he calls, slinging an arm around Daichi’s shoulder and enjoying the flustered pout that Asahi gives them both.

Daichi leans and his breath tickles Suga’s ear as he whispers, “sure I can’t convince you to give the car another go while he’s still with us?”

Suga pinches his arm. “Keep dreaming.”

Daichi gives him a quick, but effective nibble on his earlobe. “Even if I buy him some overalls?”

Suga pauses for just long enough that Daichi feels in his right to smirk in victory. 

Suga kicks him for good measure before the sound of the hood makes them jump for the second time that day.

* * *

They shuffle in through the front door, Suga vibrating with excited energy, Asahi vibrating with slightly more nervous energy and Daichi just trying to manage the two of them. 

As they remove their shoes, Suga hears the pleasant, familiar sounds of his roommates arguing in the living room at the end of the hall. He can’t make out the conversation exactly, but he hears Bokuto cry out something along the lines of, “I’m _telling_ you guys it wasn’t Daichi, you think I don’t know what he sounds like by now? I _am_ right next door, you know!”

Suga frowns and chuckles. He can’t _wait_ to see what the fuss is about this time. 

He links his fingers with Daichi’s on one side, letting him lead, and Asahi’s on the other. The hallway isn’t wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side and it’s a bit of a squeeze as they pass through the door into the living room. 

Suga feels the air change in a microsecond.

He’s never really given it much thought as to what a goldfish might feel like, or a hamster, or any small creature that’s caged in and gawked at for hours on end. As he stands there - hands linked with both of his boyfriends, and sees his three roommates, as well as Akaashi, turn to face him, jaws dropping and eyes honing in like a radar - he thinks maybe it could feel something like this. 

“Umm… evening?” No reaction. “Are we… interrupting something?” Eyes dart from him to Daichi to Asahi and it’s hard to keep track of who’s looking where.

“You’re—” Bokuto squeaks. “—You’re the guy from the picture! Asahi!”

“ _Koutarooooou_!” Noya growls, finally breaking their unwavering stares. “What the hell did we discuss?!”

“ _They’re standing right there, you want me to pretend like I can’t see them_?!”

“But he—” Tanaka points between them in a panic, eyes wide. “—and you—and Daichi—and—”

Suga takes a quick look at Asahi, only to realise he needs to break this up very soon or Asahi may very well pass out. He probably looks normal to the others, but Suga can see the sweat starting to break around his forehead, which means he’s using every bit of concentration not to panic. Tokyo may have done wonders for his comfort zone in some respects, but there’s only so much he can handle when a room full of loud intimidating guys are making sure he’s the centre of attention. 

He doesn’t need to say anything, however, because Daichi speaks up seconds later. “Can someone please explain to me what on earth is going on? I’m not the only one that’s lost, am I?”

“I’m equally confused, I’ll admit,” Akaashi speaks up in a low monotone, raising his hand slightly. “Kou, what are you freaking out about?”

Bokuto starts shaking uncontrollably and grabs Akaashi by his shirt. Akaashi allows it, probably far more used to his antics than anyone else in the room. “They’re all in the same _room_ Keiji!” he nearly shrieks, “holding _hands_!”

Akaashi frowns. “Why wouldn’t they be in the same room? Jesus, you expect them to put hand holding off until their wedding night or something? They’re boyfriends, not monks.”

“Boy—” Tanaka and Noya echo in tandem. 

“—friends?” Bokuto finishes. 

The silence that follows is so thick, Suga doesn’t even think Tanaka’s favourite kitchen knife could cut it. Tanaka eventually comes through in a pinch with his foot in mouth syndrome, breaking the silence that no one else seems capable of dealing with.

“No—” he says in a hysterical sort of pitch that means he’s either about to laugh or cry. “He’s cheating— I mean— the affair… I mean—”

Suga shakes his head as though he’s a puppy just been let in from a rainstorm. “You— I— _Wait_ —” he prays to any gods that might be listening for him to find the right words before he strangles someone. “You thought I was _cheating_?! On _Daichi_?!”

His three roommates lock up in abject terror, whereas Akaashi turns his head to Bokuto with a look of utter confusion. 

“Iheardyouguysdoingit!” Bokuto says, fists clenched. Suga barely understands a word of it, but he gets a sense of the important bits from Bokuto’s tensed, red face. “I was gonna say something! Uh— to… you know…” he scratches behind his neck before standing up straight as a rod, “— defend Daichi’s honour!”

“I-In my defence—!” Tanaka yelps, “I thought you were cheating on _Asahi_ — If, uh… if that makes you feel any better!” He’s standing stiffer and straighter with every word, and Suga assumes it’s from the very real panic of saying those words in front of Daichi. “... And so did Noya!” he adds in an even higher pitch when there’s no answer.

Noya, who’s been staring at a fixed point in front of him this entire time, whips his head to the side and let’s his eyes stab straight into Tanaka’s chest.

Suga pulls his hands out from Daichi and Asahi’s hold and shoves them into his hair. Anything to find some grasp on the reality and the insanity he’s being faced with. “ _Why_ would that make me feel _better_?!” He feels dangerously close to hysterical, not an emotion he’s familiar with; that’s Asahi’s territory. 

“I didn’t think that!” Bokuto squeaks, raising his hand in defiance. “I had my own theories!”

Suga turns to Daichi with an open mouth and wild, pleading eyes, only to find him with his lips clamped shut, and trembling. Suga _gapes_. 

“You got to be kidd—” but it’s too late. Daichi erupts into cackles, the likes of which Suga rarely gets to hear from him. It ends up doing wonders to quell whatever small bubble of anger was building up inside him and his own stomach muscles start to quiver with the need to laugh. 

He then turns to his left where Asahi is standing, stone faced and seconds away from a full on panic. “I’m just going to—” he finally mumbles, cheeks red, gesturing to anywhere but where he’s standing.

Suga takes one of his hands in both of his, finally snapping out his and Daichi’s shared amusement. “Hey, hey, no, no, no, none of that,” he soothes, before turning his eyes on their audience. “Something tells me we all need to have a little chat.”

“I, uh…” Noya starts.

“Yeah, I need to…” Bokuto slurs.

“Me too—”

“—Kitchen table. _Now_.”

* * *

They don’t actually have enough chairs for seven people to sit on, so Suga sits with Tanaka, Bokuto and Noya, while their respective boyfriends stand at a safe distance. Suga can tell that Daichi’s steadfast energy is already doing wonders to cure Asahi’s jitters. That and the tea they made for him. 

It feels as though there should be an old fashioned clock somewhere on the wall so the ticking could fill the silence in the room.

“Would you like to tell me,” Suga begins, cupping his own mug for purchase, “what in the name of all that is holy made you think that I was cheating on Daichi?”

Bokuto speaks first, unaffected by things like fear or nerves. It’s like the athlete and the actor in him birthed the most confident human being imaginable. Or at least one with barely a filter. “We thought Daichi was your only boyfriend!”

Suga hangs his head. “I told you guys I had two boyfriends the night I moved in…”

“You did?!” Bokuto barks. 

“Oh shit…” Tanaka mutters, bringing a hand up to his lips. Suga can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. He looks like he’s just been given the final puzzle piece to the meaning of life.

“I talk about them _both_.”

“We thought—”

“— _All_ the time…”

“...To be fair, I was a little… confused in the beginning…” Tanaka says, eyes darting anywhere but at Suga. “I just… I figured I got the wrong end of the stick… or that maybe Asahi was an ex of yours, or um…”

“I thought you and Daichi broke up,” Bokuto mumbles.

“You didn’t think to just… _ask_?” Suga says, eyebrows raised. It’s like he’s asked the three of them to explain Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, because they seem utterly baffled by the idea.

“I guess we…” Noya mumbles. It’s only now that Suga realises how quiet he’s being compared to the others. Quieter than he’s ever used to seeing him.

“...Wanted to respect your privacy…” Tanaka finishes. 

And all it takes is one look at their puppy dog faces, knowing how stupid they must all be feeling at their mistake, and the rest of Suga’s irritation and own embarrassment at being mistaken for a cheater finally melts away. The three of them combined wouldn’t know how to spite someone if there was a step by step plan written for them in a kid's book.

“Koutarou, you didn’t actually think Suga was having an affair, did you?” Akaashi asks. 

Bokuto turns around, face red, hair trembling. “O-Of course not! I was just— getting my facts straight!”

“Well your facts were about as straight as you are,” Akaashi replies, savagely deadpan. “I’ve only met Suga once before, and even I knew he was poly after just one conversation. How did you manage to go a whole month?”

Bokuto grumbles something unintelligible, but it’s drowned out by Noya’s question. “Poly?”

“It’s the name for the type of relationship we have,” Daichi speaks up. “It’s what you call people, or a relationship, where there’s more than one person involved.”

“But it can look very different for different people,” Suga continues. “In our case, me, Daichi and Asahi are all in a relationship with each other; we have been since high school. We’re all equal partners in the relationship.”

The three of them nod, processing.

“Was it…” Noya murmurs, perhaps unsure how to phrase his question, “... always like that?”

Suga chuckles and looks to Daichi and Asahi for guidance. “It all happened so close together, I don’t even remember how… the three of us were in the same year and we were best friends, so it’s all a bit of a muddle… did we get together first, Daichi? Or me and Asahi?”

Daichi looks down and shakes his head. “If you put a gun to my head I might not be able to tell you. It wasn’t smooth sailing, that much I do remember. It got resolved pretty quickly, but there was so much stuff that went unsaid before we realised that we _all_ liked each other that it feels so much longer looking back.”

“You can say that again,” Asahi mumbles into his cup. The first proper sentence Suga’s heard from him since they set food in the house. It finally makes him feel a little at ease to hear Asahi cracking even a self deprecating joke. 

“Can’t believe you guys thought he was cheating,” Bokuto mutters, mouth barely opening. 

The eruption of noise that follows is nothing short of spectacular and Suga escapes the table while he still can and before Tanaka literally eats everyone within arms reach, starting with Bokuto.

Suga goes to stand by Daichi’s side, leaning against his arm and watching his disaster roommates that he’s fallen so head over heels in love with in such a short space of time. 

“You know guys,” he finally says, voice loud and penetrating, “I _would_ like to make it to the izakaya at some point tonight like we planned.” Tanaka and Bokuto look up from where Bokuto has him in a chokehold and the fight is quickly abandoned in favour of the idea of being fed. 

“I’ll grab my coat,” Akaashi says.

Just before he leaves the room, Suga turns around and asks, “Oh, Akaashi, could you grab my polaroid from my room on your way back? It should be right on the dresser, you can’t miss it.”

Akaashi nods and Tanaka asks, “what for?”

“It’s the first time we’re all together,” Suga says with a smile. “And as much as this _wasn’t_ the first impression I was hoping for…” he sees Asahi’s cheeks colour once more, “...I want a memento.”

Noises of approval making their way around the room, before Suga lets out a delighted sound, finally remembering. “Oh Tanaka…” he says coyly, “I forgot to tell you, but we’ll be a party of eight tonight.”

He watches as Tanaka counts the number of bodies he knows are in the house and Suga feels the soles of his feet vibrate with mischief. 

“You got another boyfriend hiding somewhere in Hokkaido maybe?” he finally asks, and Suga lets out a bark of laughter. 

“No, no, nothing like that, but _you_ might have a girlfriend here in Sendai if you play your cards right,” he smirks. When all he gets in response is a cocked head and pinched brows, he sighs and says, “Kiyoko and I have a class together and I’ve been getting to know her. I invited her to join us; she seems a little shy, so I thought she could use some nice company.”

“And you thought throwing her to this pack of wolves was a good idea?” Daichi says under his breath.

“I was going to get her to sit next to Asahi to break her in gently, for your information,” Suga attempts to say under his breath, but it’s soon drowned out by Tanaka.

The second he hears Kiyoko’s name, he collapses onto the floor, wailing and near sobbing. Perhaps he should have broken it to him more gently, but Suga doesn't think enough years have yet existed in human civilization for Tanaka to come to terms with the fact that he’ll be eating opposite the girl of his dreams in a matter of hours. 

Collectively, they manage to calm him down enough for him to clean his nose and smarten himself up while the others wait in the living room.

Suga is about to sneak off to his room to grab his present for Noya from Tokyo - a glass he purchased to replace the one that got smashed on his first night here - when he notices it. 

He’s standing with Daichi by the window, the others dotted around the room in comfortable companionship. Bokuto and Akaashi are in the midst of a one sided conversation and Asahi is standing by the bookshelf, admiring the various titles on display. 

But it’s Noya who catches Suga’s eye.

Noya, who is sitting on the couch in silence, the way he’s been for the majority of the evening, and staring in a straight, unwavering line at Asahi.

Suga looks between the two of them for long seconds, turning the wheels in his head and studying Noya’s expression to see if he’s deciphered it right. The last thing they need is a second misunderstanding. But how could he possibly misunderstand that expression. 

Suga has always thought Noya a loud starer if such a thing existed, always making his eyes known, daggers in someone's back. Sometimes, there’s something far scarier about him when he’s _not_ using his words. But Asahi, who is usually so uncomfortable with people’s eyes on him that he can sense the attention even if he’s in another room, probably even on the other side of the planet, doesn’t look around or even twitch. 

Suga’s heart races with excitement at the visual of Noya’s soft, unfocused eyes that have forgotten about anyone else and realises that Noya has already managed to adapt to Asahi’s anxious energy and make himself a less threatening presence without even realising he’s doing it; zoning out into a private stare that he probably thinks is invisible. If Suga was to put money on it, he’d bet Noya doesn’t even realise he’s looking. 

He feels a slow, satisfied smirk bloom on his face, pokes Daichi with one elbow and points his chin discreetly in the direction of Noya and his pining. 

It takes Daichi a few looks back and forth, following Noya’s eyeline, to see it too. He shakes his head and laughs under his breath, leans in as close as he can without looking suspicious and whispers, “don’t you start. You don’t think you’re doing enough matchmaking tonight as it is?”

“Me?!” Suga gasps, mock affronted. It’s easily drowned out by Bokuto’s incessant chatter. “Sweetie,” he smirks, “I wouldn’t be seen dead matchmaking. That’s what they call _meddling_.” Daichi looks totally unconvinced, eyebrows raised, so Suga elaborates, “what I’m planning on doing is something more like this.” He then speaks up, clearly and with purpose, “Nishi?” he prompts, making him jump out of his trance. “You’ll sit on Asahi’s other side, won't you? To make sure Tanaka doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Kiyoko?”

Noya flushes a deep red and freezes on the spot. 

“Oh my god, dude, _would you_?!” Tanak begs, before rattling off a list of ways in which he could mess this up. It distracts Noya enough that Suga is able to give Daichi a triumphant side eye without being spotted. It’s drenched with _I_ _told you so._

Asahi turns around and nods his agreement at the situation, even though he’s clearly oblivious to Noya’s steadily growing crush. He puts his hands into his jacket pocket and murmurs, “Suga… Suga said that you play too? That you all do?”

“Bro _you_ play too?!” Tanaka beams. “I bet you could even go up against a triple block, taking a look at you!” He balls his hands up into fight fists. Asahi brings a hand to the back of his neck and looks away from his piercing and somewhat intimidating stare. 

Noya clears his throat and _finally_ speaks, blessedly sounding something like himself again when he announces, “we should all get together for a street game tomorrow. Our blockers are pretty mean, so you can show us what you’re made of, goatee.”

Asahi looks like he could swallow his own tongue at the gauntlet that Noya just threw. The only person he’s ever been used to dealing with such directness from is Daichi. And quite frankly, Noya’s size (and rather adorable appearance) probably stumped him the same way it did Suga until the moment Noya first opened his mouth.

“500 yen says Asahi folds like a stack of cards the second they speak to each other later tonight,” Suga whispers to Daichi as he watches the scene unfold before him.

Daichi raises his eyebrows. “Since when do you gamble?” he asks, amused.

“Oh please, betting against you in this situation isn’t a gamble,” he gives Daichi a kiss on the cheek, “it’s an investment,” before clapping his hands. “Right! Shall we get this show on the road? Let’s just take that photo while we’re still sober enough.”

“You think we’ll all fit on the couch?” Bokuto asks, already maneuvering himself and Akaashi. 

They somehow fit. Some fitting, some standing, some laying across laps, some squatting on the floor. The only one missing is Asahi. 

“What are you doing?” Suga asks, brows creased as he watches Asahi reach for the polaroid and stand in front of the couch. 

“You… you guys wanted a photo, so I thought I’d take it for you…”

Suga sighs, but doesn’t have a chance to scold him, before Tanaka roars, “sit your ass down, dude! We want a photo of _all_ of us.”

Asahi blinks. “I…”

“You’re part of this family now, whether you like it or not,” Suga smiles, “just ask Daichi, he was indoctrinated too.”

“He’s right, babe,” Daichi says and Suga feels his hand come down to rub at his shoulder. “So put the timer on and get over here.”

The flush on Asahi’s face warms Suga’s heart like it did the first day he saw it, like it did during the first official date of theirs as a three that he actually recalls fully. It’s going to take all of their work, all of their respect and all of their love to get through the next two years. But as Asahi joins them in their dysfunctional human puzzle, Suga finally feels that missing piece slip into place and he knows he’ll wait another ten years if he has to. It’s certainly not like there’s a lack of love to go around in this house.

He wraps one arm around Asahi and the other around Daichi and feels Bokuto grab onto his leg as he counts them down along with the flashing light on his camera. 

“Say NICE KILL!” Bokuto yells, throwing his hands up in delight.

The photo ends up cutting off a tiny portion of Akaashi’s face and one of Bokuto’s excited hands is blocking half of Tanaka’s. Suga refuses to retake it. He keeps it and frames it. 

It’s imperfect and chaotic and it fits them perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a LOT of firsts for me on this project! First time posting a multi chapter fic in one go (not sure how I feel about that yet haha we’ll have to see), first time writing something that’s supposed to be mostly comedic, first time writing Noya’s, Bokuto’s and Suga’s POVs, first time writing for asadaisuga or any variation of ships in that trio and first time writing poly in general! I am not poly but I hope I did it justice! It was such a joy to write this and gave me so many feels!!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading guys and I hope you enjoyed it too!!!!
> 
> Love Roxanne xxx
> 
> *
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox) to spam me with feels <3

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATED A/N
> 
> I can't thank you enough for all the lovely words you've had to say about my fic, but I've decided, at least for the time being, to disable comments on all my fics up to this point. New fics will have comments enabled, but email notifications turned off. This has nothing to do with any negative experiences with anyone commenting (as you can see if you read, it's all very very kind), but I've just found the experience a little too overwhelming for me personally in terms of responding and no matter how many people tell me not to worry, it's not going away, and I know the more I write the more it'll frustrate me. I didn't want to let new people comment on the story and feel ignored or left out because they thought I refused to reply to them. So the best way for me to do that is just to disable all fics where there are already existing comments. I know this can be horribly frustrating for some folks, so if you really would like to get in touch with me, I LOVE talking to new people and you an reach me via my twitter (linked in the A/N) or through my discord handle which is Roxanne#6113
> 
> I love you all and if you happen to find this fic after this A/N was written I hope you enjoy it and I love you all!


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